The Boy of the Lamp
by apriiil
Summary: As far as Lucy always knew, genies weren't real. Cleaning her new house one day, Lucy comes across an old lamp in the attic, and now she has a supernatural being inhabiting her house and bugging her about using up her wishes.
1. The Boy of the Lamp

_Time for a Genie!AU, because why not. I accidentally replaced this chapter with another chapter and didn't realise it until a week later, but it's fixed now (so yes, this is the correct first chapter). I can't remember what my original notes on it were, but that's probably a good thing since most people don't read them anyway._

 _Anyway, hope you enjoy! Reviews are always highly appreciated._

* * *

Of all the things to have come across in amongst her cottage's previous owner's belongings, Lucy thought that a dusty, old genie lamp sitting at the bottom of one box in a large pile in the attic was one of the more mysterious objects to have found – and that was saying something, since one of the walls in her bedroom had been covered in nothing but rainbow dream catchers of various sizes when she'd first moved in.

Lucy didn't think much of the lamp, though. Having moved into the old cottage and begun clearing out the former tenants' belongings a few weeks earlier, she'd already learnt that the old couple that had owned the peaceful little cottage had collected some pretty odd things in the time they'd lived there. An old genie lamp was nothing as far as Lucy was concerned, and after contemplating what to do with it for a few moments, she merely shrugged and placed it into the washing basket beside her to take downstairs with her later.

As odd as some of the stuff Lucy had found in that house was, some of it was actually pretty cool, and Lucy thought the lamp would look pretty nice sitting on top of the fireplace once it was all polished up. And besides, considering she'd spent all the money she had on buying the cottage, she couldn't very well spend any on prettying the place up – not yet, anyway. It was honestly a miracle she'd been able to afford the house at all, especially considering the amount of land that came with it, but with the previous owners having left it all to their grown-up son with a nice house in the city, Lucy figured the ridiculously low price had just been because he'd wanted it off his hands. And as much as Lucy would've preferred having an apartment in the city, she hadn't been able to afford to be picky.

The small cottage with the overgrown garden, half an hour from the nearest town had just had to do. And really, Lucy didn't mind it that much. She could deal with the mountains of dust, cobwebs, and hours' worth of cleaning up and gardening she'd need to do, especially since she was doing it on her own.

It wasn't until a few weeks later that Lucy was sitting down after a long day of pulling weeds in the sun and planning on polishing up the old lantern, along with a few other once-shiny things she'd found in the boxes in the attic. The T.V. that had been in the house when she'd first moved in had been older than Lucy herself (well, that's what she thought at least), but after managing to pick up a part-time job at the bookstore in town, she'd been able to save enough to pick up a T.V. that was actually in colour.

So after settling on a channel to watch and making herself comfortable on the reasonably decent sofa, Lucy was picking up the damp cloth from the tub of soapy water next to her and then reaching for the first of the objects she'd laid out on her coffee table to be washed. It was the glass goblets with the gold trim first, then the crystal dove sculpture she'd found wrapped in several layers of newspaper and thought deserved to sit in front of an open window so it could catch the afternoon sun. She'd even found some old war medals in a dusty glass display cabinet, and since Lucy still had the number of the son who'd sold his parents' old cottage, she figured she'd clean them up and return the medals to him. He'd already made it clear that everything in the house was now hers to do with as she pleased, but she could at least offer the guy the chance to have some of it.

The lamp was one of the last things Lucy actually got to, and by that point, she was embarrassingly out of breath. Who'd have guessed that rubbing things and trying to make them all clean and sparkly again could be so tiring? But hey, at least the gold candlesticks she'd come across were shining. Now she could sit them on her nightstand or something.

Lucy wiped her brow with the back of her hand before picking up the dusty, old lamp and the dirty rag from her table again. She dipped it into the bowl of soapy – albeit slightly murky now – water, and crossing her legs back under herself again after shifting earlier, Lucy got to making the bronze genie lamp with the ornate swirls decorating the handle and trim shine once again.

After just a few seconds of absent-mindedly rubbing the cloth in small circles to cut through all the dust and grime that had built up over the years of sitting in the attic, Lucy felt her palm supporting the lamp beginning to heat up. She didn't think much of it at first, instead just assuming it was somehow friction causing the whole lamp to heat up. But then it really began to burn, and steam was beginning to rise when she held the wet cloth to it, and Lucy had no choice but to drop the dusty oil lamp onto the coffee table.

"Damn, what the hell…" Lucy muttered to herself. Her palm was red and tender, and there was no way that was from _friction_. She didn't even get a chance to convince herself that she was somehow reacting to the detergent before the lamp lurched slightly on the coffee table, just enough to knock over to goblet sitting next to it.

Lucy yelped and watched as the lamp began to jump around on the coffee table again and again, knocking over more objects near it and making Lucy fearful and quickly coming to be convinced of the paranormal – the lamp was clearly cursed… or something.

And that was when the smoke started billowing out from the spout, the dark blue and the contrasting bright purple mixing together in the air, filling the room with a light mist… And then the lamp made an audible _pop_ as it stopped levitating off the goddamn table – Lucy hadn't even noticed it was floating until that point – and then landed back amongst the clutter, and expelled one last puff of colourful smoke.

"Oh, thank fucking _god_ I'm out of there."

Lucy jumped so high off the lounge she ended up tipping the whole thing backwards and falling to the floor.

For a second, Lucy thought she'd been hearing things when she heard the relieved masculine voice. But then the smoke cleared and the figure of a man became clear, and then Lucy was left gawking at the man now standing in the middle of her living room.

"Good lord, it was getting cramped in there," he groaned, stretching his long arms above his head and out to the sides, and flexing each foot before him, one at a time. "And Christ, couldn't anyone have dusted once in a while?! I was almost swimming in the dust!"

Lucy was absolutely stunned. Her hands were shaking as she slowly picked herself up from the ground, hands clutching the _base_ of the lounge as she manoeuvred to hide behind it. "You…"

"Okay, well I wasn't _swimming_ in dust," the man – or Lucy hoped, sort of – continued. "But there was enough dust in that goddamn attic that it was getting in my precious lamp!" Really, it wasn't a very nice experience. It was only after he'd finished stretching and waving the rest of the brightly coloured smoke away from him that he noticed the cowering girl behind the tipped-over sofa, and he couldn't help but raise his blue eyebrows before making a face at her. "What the hell are you doing down there?"

 _What the hell am_ ** _I_** _doing…? God, what the heck is going on here?!_ Lucy's mind was running a million miles an hour. Surely none of what she was seeing could be real, right? There was a man – albeit a _strangely_ _attractive_ man, with an odd cobalt mohawk, ridiculously bright red almond-shaped eyes and… _Is that fucking eyeliner?_ With a dark tattoo of a person across the bridge of his nose – standing in her living room, and Lucy had no fucking clue how he was there at all! It was almost as if he'd come out of the lamp itself.

All the soap had to have started getting to her. That was it. She was high – well, sort of. So she tried pinching herself, letting her nails dig into the flesh of her forearm hard enough that there'd be an indentation at least for a few minutes, and— "Ow!" she cried out. Pinching herself _hurt_.

"Well, that was stupid."

And apparently pinching herself didn't _work_ , because she still had a stranger standing in her living room and staring at her like she had a third eye. Quickly, Lucy scrambled up from the ground and backed into the console table just behind her, knocking over the picture frame that sat on the very end of it.

"And that was stupid as well," the man sighed, and with a roll of his eyes, a sigh, and a flick of his wrist, the broken picture frame was piecing itself together in just a few seconds and settling itself back on the table like nothing had ever happened. "Honestly," he continued, "Are you just going to stare at me like that all day? I may not need to sleep, but come on, I don't want to stand here just waiting for you to blink. You're creepin' me out, girlie."

Lucy was completely at a loss for words, and she could only look down to the perfect picture frame now next to her hand, and then back to the man in her living room with a look of absolute shock etched on her face. "You… But… It was…"

"…Yes?" he drawled. Did she have some kind of speech impediment or was she just plain stupid?

She really was so far past confused. And dear _lord_ , that look of absolute boredom on his pretty face was beginning to drive her insane. How could he look so bored?! He'd just come out of a fucking lamp! So Lucy snapped – just completely, entirely, and utterly _snapped_. "Who the hell are you?!" she screeched, her voice painfully (at least to the other's ears) higher than before and her words coming out quickly. "How the hell did you even get in here?!"

Sighing, the man rolled his eyes again. "Oh, here we go…" he mumbled. It had been such a long time since he'd had a master like _that_. Just once he'd like to be summoned by someone who actually knew who and what he was. Lucy's questioning had yet to end though, so when she continued to scream and get all flustered (her face was as red as a lobster by then, and oh, was it a delightful sight), he couldn't just ignore the growing ache in his head. So many years of peace – albeit dusty peace – in his little lamp, just to be summoned by the screeching demon herself. So he did the only thing he could think off, which was silence her vocal chords with a flourish of his left hand. "Okay, baby, first of all, _shut up_. Please."

Oh, how Lucy wanted to yell at him, but no matter how much she opened her mouth and strained herself to make noise, none came out. So she huffed and crossed her arms over her chest after making a vague gesture for the _oh so polite_ man to continue.

"Secondly," he continued, straightening up and puffing his chest out slightly with a triumphant smirk on his lips. "I, am Bickslow. The seventh son of Attis, heir to the Kingdom of Souls, commander of the—holy fuck, you should see your face right now. I'm totally kidding." He couldn't stop himself from bursting out into laughter halfway through; keeping a straight face and introducing himself _seriously_ had never been his thing.

Lucy gestured to her throat with a pleading look in her gentle eyes then, and Bickslow almost instantly removed the silencer around her vocal chords, before he hesitated with his arm out in front of him and asked, "Do you promise not to screech again?"

She nodded, and then cleared her throat just to make sure that he'd really reversed it. "You… The lamp…" Bickslow crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow at her while waiting for her to get her words out. "You came out of the… lamp…"

Bickslow shrugged. "Well, yeah. I'm a genie. We _live_ in lamps."

"A… A _genie_?" Lucy shrieked. "Genies are just myths! Legends!"

"Honey, I can guarantee you that I am _not_ a myth. And frankly, I'm almost insulted. I mean, I'm standing right in front of you, and you think I'm a _myth_?" He shook his head before he muttered, "Gods, what are they teaching kids in school this century…"

Lucy was still only sure she was hallucinating. Genies weren't real. They were pure fiction – and she would know, considering she was a fiction author (or, she liked to think she was at least, although she'd yet to finish the book she was trying to get published). Still, genies were hands down, one-hundred percent, total fucking myths.

She was sure of it.

So just how the fuck did the guy with the blue hair come out of the fucking lamp? And who the hell was he really?

Curiously, Lucy stepped forward, walking around the toppled sofa to stand in front of the tall… human-thing. Bickslow only watched her with an eyebrow raised, waiting to see what his new master was up to. Close enough (yet still far enough away that she could run and hide and pretend it was all a bad dream), Lucy cautiously lifted a hand to gently prod at what she thought was Bickslow's shoulder. Except her hand never met anything solid, and instead went right through the air as if Bickslow wasn't there at all.

Bickslow could only sigh as Lucy frantically swiped her hand through the air, through his arm, across his chest, and through his abdomen. She walked around him and tested it from all angles to achieve the exact same thing.

"Are you done yet?" he asked.

Lucy stepped back quickly and cowered against a wall. "But… How?!" Her voice was high from her fear. "I can see you! But I can't…"

"Can't touch me?" Oh, how Bickslow wished she could. Most of his masters were old and decrepit. Lucy, however… Well, she wasn't anything close to that. "Yeah. Humans can't touch us."

"You say that as if _you're_ not human."

"I'm not."

"Well, you… You look like one."

Bickslow gave half a shrug. "Our outward appearance depends on our masters," he explained, unfolding his arms to look down at himself finally. He had to admit, his current appearance was far nicer than his previous one, at least from what he could tell. His last master had had some kind of weird fetish for old dudes in ancient robes, so he'd spent the better part of three decades with a white beard down to his elbows, a wrinkly, round stomach, and a dusty white robe that was really just a glorified towel. So right then, Bickslow was definitely enjoying the presence of _pants_. It was drafty without them. "Depends on what they'll find most _appealing_ , I suppose."

Lucy felt an unwelcome heat develop on her cheeks. _Pfft_ , he wasn't appealing. Not even a little bit. Still, even if Bickslow was who he said he was (which Lucy very much doubted), she certainly hadn't expected a genie to ever look like that. Although if what he said was true, well… It kind of made sense. Kind of.

"I thought genies were supposed to be blue… And wear lots of jewellery and—"

"Like this, yeah?"

Lucy coughed as the burst of blue and purple smoke faded and cleared the room. Gone was the human-like man before, and instead in its place a floating spirit with a non-proportionately sized torso, legs that tapered off into a tail of light blue mist, shining cuffs on his wrists, and the saddest excuse for a _ponytail_ on top of his round face. It was definitely the kind of genie that Lucy had pictured, but now that she'd seen it, she kind of preferred the _other_ one. "Yeah… Like that…" she mumbled.

The genie shrugged and admired his new form again. "Well, _this_ is a myth." He knew why Lucy thought that he should look that way, though. It wasn't new by any means. "Jinn have no set forms. We're different for every person who sees us. Humans needed something to believe in and tell stories about though, so they made this shit up," he said. Even he had to admit that it made sense. It was just a little frustrating sometimes.

"I see…"

Bickslow returned to his previous form with a sigh, crossing his then leather-clad arms over his chest again. "Anyway, can I get on with telling you my rules now?" he asked with exasperation.

Lucy blinked. "Rules? What rules?"

He rolled his eyes at her and did his best not to just retreat into his dusty old lamp. His new master was a fucking moron. "The rules for your _wishes_."

"No. No, absolutely not." She shook her head quickly as she pushed away from the wall just to pick up the bronze lamp and set it on top of her fireplace. It needed a bit more polishing, but it was still a nice centrepiece. "There will be no telling of rules because none of this is real," she insisted.

Because, really, it couldn't be. She had to be dreaming. Or hallucinating. Or… something.

"Oh, come on. This again? I thought we were past this!" Bickslow complained.

Lucy shook her head again as she struggled to heave the sofa up and set it upright. "Nope, can't hear you, because you're not real. This is all in my head."

Bickslow watched as his new master tidied up the dish clothes and the other items she'd been polishing. Sometimes, he hated being a genie. Sometimes, he hated humans, too. They could be such frustrating little creatures, set in their ways and so scared of believing in things that their world had decided _didn't_ exist. It made his job hard, when really, it shouldn't be. He was there to serve, not try and convince some twenty-something woman that no, he wasn't a myth, and yes, he really he did exist.

Although, Bickslow seemed to realise that he wasn't going to get anywhere with that right then. It wasn't like he was in a rush or anything, but he was still impatient. He'd been cooped up in that damn lamp for far too long and he wanted to have some fun, damn it.

So, giving up, Bickslow only retreated to his lamp on the fireplace with a trail of blue and purple smoke behind him. Lucy tried not to notice it, and instead, finished tidying up just to head to bed.

She only hoped that come morning, the apparent genie would be gone and the lamp would just be an antique she'd found in her attic.


	2. Defying Logic

The shrill tone of the alarm pulled Lucy from her slumber. She groaned into her pillow, painfully aware of how she felt the cold and damp fabric against her cheek from where she'd apparently been drooling, and pulled the covers up over her head.

It was a Monday, and Lucy didn't like Mondays.

"Are you seriously just going to ignore it? Oh, you humans are so interesting sometimes."

Lucy jumped at the amused voice, quickly flinging the blanket back and sitting upright in a tangled mess of cotton sheets. "Who the—" She cut herself short when she set her eyes on the blue-haired jinn she'd been hoping only existed in her nightmare. He sat on a pale cloud of purple smoke, knee crossed over his other leg as he cleaned his fingernails with a small blade. "Holy shit," she whispered. "I'm still dreaming. I have to be." Because really, there was just no other explanation. All of it had to be one, massive, fucked up dream.

She most definitely had not accidentally woken a genie in her living room, and she had most definitely not just woken up to find him hovering in her bedroom and asking if she was going to continue to ignore her alarm – which was, in fact, still going. But without a doubt, she had to be dreaming.

Bickslow sighed and switched to his other hand, careful not to chip any of the black polish that coated his nails. He'd never had a form that wore nail polish before, but he definitely liked it. "Seriously? You're still going with the whole _dreaming_ thing? I thought we were past that."

Lucy shook her head and covered her ears with her hands. "Nope, nope. You're not real. I can't hear you." If she ignored him – _it_ – maybe she'd wake up and everything would be fine. Yep, that's what she was going to believe.

Bickslow sighed again and instead turned his attention to his master's phone still vibrating its way off the edge of the table. It was clear she was going to shut the infernal thing up, so with a flourish of his left hand, the beeping and the vibrating stopped. Sometimes he wasn't too fond of technology. It was usually annoying and loud, and he may not be human, but he still had sensitive little ears.

"Honestly woman, you're not exactly making my life easy," he said, watching his moronic master try and untangle her legs from the sheet to stand _without_ using her hands. He was sure it was bound it fail any second.

"La-la-la-la-la! Can't hear you!"

Now, she was just getting annoying. So he'd thought it was just a little cute the night before, even if it had mostly been frustrating, but now… Nothing about it was cute. He narrowed his eyes at his insufferable master, descending from his throne of smoke in a flash to appear right before Lucy in an instant. He towered over her so easily – humans were so small that it was almost adorable – and Lucy fell silent in a second. Although whether that was due to fear or the pink pacifier with a yellow bow now in her mouth, Bickslow wasn't sure.

It was probably both.

"If you're going to act like a child, then you will be treated like one." So, he wasn't actually allowed to harm his master, but he could fuck with her, and fuck with her he would. He was there to serve, not to listen to some lunatic whine about how she was dreaming. "Now, are you done with this stupid little… _game_? Or would you perhaps like to whine a little more and make me wish I could physically strangle you myself?"

Lucy whimpered around the pacifier. For some reason she couldn't even spit the damn thing out. And with how stupid she felt actually having the damn thing in her mouth, she knew she _looked_ a whole lot worse.

But that was really the least of her concerns right then. Fear washed over her as Bickslow tilted his head slightly and his lips curled up into a sinister grin. She hadn't exactly been scared the night before, but right then, she couldn't help but be a little frightened of the supposed immortal creature before her. And whether it was because of the strangely sharp teeth, or the scarlet eyes that she was quite convinced were almost glowing a different colour, or even the fact that he was, in fact, an otherworldly being, Lucy just didn't know.

"Now, nod if you're going to behave, darling."

She nodded quickly, seemingly having the brains to know that it was probably in her best interests to do so. She didn't want to know what happens when she _really_ pisses off a genie.

Kindness returned to his features and he leant back slightly, only to sit himself down in the middle of Lucy's bed in front of her. Or, well, he wasn't actually on it, but it was close enough. "Good girl." Another small puff of bright purple smoke and the pacifier sealing Lucy's annoying mouth shut was gone, and instead of wailing and whining and screaming like Bickslow had very much expected her to do, she only slowly climbed off the bed to stand with her back against the mirrored wardrobe. "You're not going to start thinking I'm a myth again, are you?" he asked. "Because really, I don't yet have the energy to deal with it."

He'd spent so long in his lamp sleeping that his powers had started to… fade. It wasn't a bad thing, though. They always came back; it was just that it often needed time. In a few days, he'd be good as new, and, _hopefully_ , putting his almost limitless magic to good use.

And for the first time, Lucy wasn't even thinking of calling him a myth again, or trying to convince herself that it was all a dream. It was unfortunately all too real. And while she'd dreamt of magic and mythical creatures as a girl, knowing that at least some of it had always existed was just a little difficult to wrap her head around, and it scared her. The world seemed far too large all of a sudden.

"So… You really are a… genie," Lucy whispered.

Bickslow shrugged. _Halle-fucking-lujah!_ He was finally getting somewhere with the moron. "Genie. Jinn. Djinn with a _D._ Whatever the fuck you want to call me. They're practically all the same," he answered. "I personally don't care which."

"Right. And, uh… So you're definitely, _definitely_ real?" She ignored the slow smirk that curled on the genie's mouth. "I mean, I… I definitely… summoned you? Last night?" She needed to know for her own benefit. She was more open to listening right then.

"I wouldn't exactly say you _summoned_ me. More like, you happened to wake me. But yes, I assure you I am very real."

"Shit." Lucy began to pace, hand on her hip and her other covering her mouth. It didn't at all register as she passed the mirror that the only reflection in it was her, and not in fact her magical guest. "This is real. This is actually real. You're… You're a genie. I summoned a—"

"Woke."

"— _woke_ , whatever—a genie. Shit."

Bickslow frowned at his anxious master. He was almost dizzy watching her pace. "You know, most people are _happy_ when they acquire one of us. But you… You just seem to think this is still some kind of nightmare or curse. I'm offended. Honestly."

"Well, I mean, it is," Lucy argued. She stopped to glance back to the seemingly offended jinn, although really, Lucy just saw amusement. "I don't need this. I don't need you. This is all just one big mess now."

"Honey, no one _needs_ a genie."

"I don't want one either!"

"Oh." That was quite possibly the first time anyone had ever said that they didn't want him. It almost stung. But, he was really too old to get stuck on one measly human who was having a hard time accepting that the world was bigger than she'd known it to be. There were plenty of other humans in the world who would appreciate his services. Lucy just wasn't one of them, it seemed. He sat up slightly, rising from the bed and taking a forlorn look around the cosy room – it was rather cute. "Well, if that's the case… I will return to my lamp and be nothing more than a mantelpiece."

"Wait, what? Seriously?" Lucy's hands fell to her sides as she stared at the genie. She was so lost with everything, but how it had gone from him threatening to strangle her, to giving up on proving his worth, she just had no idea. One thing Lucy seemed to know though, was that his moods could change with the drop of a hat. "Is that it?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" Bickslow asked. "As a servant, it's my duty to do as you wish. And if that just means to bide my time and wait for the next human to wake me, then so be it."

He had hoped it would never come to that, not just with Lucy but with anyone, but it had, and there was no point in him wasting his time on someone who wasn't interested in him. Lucy was still sceptical, he knew that, and while she was still somewhat unbelieving, there was really nothing for him to do. He wasn't even interested in fucking with her anymore. It all just seemed like a waste of time, since bending his own rules and finding the loopholes wouldn't actually get her to want him for who – _what_ – he was. And that was fine.

Lucy was mostly just too stunned to say anything, so Bickslow took that as his opportunity to add one more thing. "If you have no interest in using my power, I recommend you find someone who does. Pass the lamp on to someone else." Then, Bickslow took it to return to his lamp in the living room, leaving a trail of fading purple and blue smoke all through Lucy's hall.

And still, Lucy just had no idea what she was supposed to say. Thankfully, she didn't have the time to worry about the sulking genie in her living room, since she had work and she definitely didn't want to be late.

* * *

The town Lucy lived in was small and peaceful. Surrounded by farmland and dense woodlands, the majority of Mayflower's residents were simple farmers or retirees looking to get away from the busy cities. At twenty-three, Lucy was already one of the youngest members of the town – well, of the adult population, at least. Most of the children that grew up there moved away once they'd graduated. Some stayed to take over businesses and farms, but most attended various colleges across the country and wouldn't return until they were in their twenties if at all.

But Lucy hadn't grown up in Mayflower. She'd grown up in the city, attended a prestigious university on a full scholarship, and then packed up her small life to live in the country. She'd wanted to escape all the city had to offer; to be free of the never-ending competition that existed everywhere she looked. Her friends had complained, but really, Lucy hadn't missed them for a second.

Out there though, out in the quiet town of Mayflower, Lucy was free to be herself. She didn't have to impress anyone. She wasn't constantly having to prove herself to anyone. She could just be that quiet girl who wanted nothing more than to write and publish her novel. Everything had worked out perfectly so far, apart from the fact that Lucy hadn't yet had the time to even start her novel.

Still, with the small population, it meant Lucy had a relatively easy work week. She'd been lucky to pick up the job at the bookstore within days of moving to Mayflower. The owner was getting old and frail, and after fifty years of managing it day in and day out, he'd needed someone else to be there during the day and take care of the place. He still owned it and dealt with most of the ordering and expenses, but for the most part, Lucy ran the day-to-day business.

Mondays, however, were just horrible for Lucy. The store was connected to the town's single museum, and apparently Monday was tour day – although technically, every day except Sunday was tour day, but Monday always seemed to be the busiest. Students from all over the county would visit Mayflower's prized museum on Monday morning. Teachers and parents followed closely behind the little humans, constantly telling them to not touch something or stay with the group. Some of the older residents of their very own town would frequent the museum tour, but they were easy to ignore since they were quiet and mostly polite. But the school tours… Oh, how Lucy hated the school tours.

The bookstore also happened to double as the museum gift store. And so far, every week without fail, at the end of every tour, a horde of screaming children and the tired adults would run into her store and make a point of getting their little hands on every single item at least once. And Lucy could put on a polite voice and wear a smile, but it really did just make her hate Mondays.

Once the last tour ended at two o'clock though, Lucy was mostly free to just tidy up the shelves and get a little reading done. That day, however, Lucy was having trouble focusing on her afternoon tasks. She usually had no problem organising and cleaning the store (hell, she did it out of boredom sometimes), and it was always nice to get her hands on the new releases whenever they arrived, but that day, all she could do was think of that stupid genie she supposedly had sulking in her house.

She still wanted to think it was all one crazy dream, but she seemed to know better. For some stupid reason, magic existed. Lucy was inclined to think it was the universe's best-kept secret at that point. That aside though, she still had said genie to deal with, and that was where Lucy was stuck.

She didn't need a magical wish-granting creature. She didn't want one, either. But she had one sitting on her fireplace, regardless of what she wanted.

In a way, Lucy almost felt bad for upsetting Bickslow, too. She could realise that she'd been nothing but difficult, and even if she felt it had been warranted (because hello, magical and probably immortal creature showing up in her house in the middle of the night), she knew she could've taken it a little better. She was Lucy Heartfilia, damn it. She was known for being reasonable and (mostly) logical.

It was just that magic and genies defied logic and reason. Or so Lucy thought.

Still, as Lucy mindlessly organised the new arrivals shelf in the front window, Lucy only wondered whether she'd _keep_ Bickslow. Her first thought was to just leave him alone in his lamp, and perhaps just tuck it away in a box in the attic for the next inhabitant to find, but then she remembered what he'd said about passing the lamp to someone else. It was a fair request, and it made sense – of course he'd prefer to be of actual use to someone. But… Lucy didn't really want to do that. She didn't exactly want to give his lamp away to someone else, but if she wasn't going to use him herself, then that made her selfish, didn't it?

"Something on your mind, Lucy?"

She shook her head and fiddled with the books until the stack was perfectly straight. "No, I'm okay," she sighed. It wasn't exactly like she could tell the store owner that she was considering entering some kind of contract with a genie. He'd probably think that she needed to take up a room at the abandoned mental hospital in the next town over.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

Lucy turned to smile over her shoulder at him. He was a sweet old man, she had to give him that. "I'm sure. Just debating the existence of magic, that's all," she joked. It wasn't like it was far from the truth anyway.

His laugh was hearty and his eyes crinkled as he returned the smile. "My, magic is everywhere, my dear! It's hiding in plain sight. You just have to look a little harder!"

Had she not had a genie come out of a lamp just the night before, Lucy would've known for sure that the old man was joking. Now, she wasn't so sure. If genies existed, what else was there?

"I'll just have to try my best then," she offered. Perhaps all she needed to do was… open her eyes a little. Maybe there was more to life than reason and logic.

Patting her on the shoulder, the old owner left the store for the day and left Lucy to finish organising the front shelf. Her afternoon went a little faster from that point, having seemingly reached a decision with her genie problem.

* * *

Lucy stared at the lamp sitting on the middle of the mantel for far longer than she should have. While she didn't exactly need a magical wish-granting creature in her life, she had accepted that maybe, just maybe, Bickslow could be of _some_ use – although she wasn't sure how exactly. Actually accepting the fact that he existed was still blowing her mind, but she was doing her best to ignore that.

Finally picking up the lamp, Lucy stared at it for another moment before she bit her tongue and rubbed her palm across the side of the brass lamp. It felt way too crude, and she was inclined to think that some genie somewhere got off on it.

The lamp didn't heat up in her hands that time, and no light smoke escaped from the spout either. For a moment, she wondered if she'd offended the genie so much that he was actually ignoring her. "Come on… I know you're in there…" Lucy mumbled, rubbing the lamp a little harder and trying her best to push her shameful thoughts to the far back of her mind where they belonged. "Or at least I think you are…" Honestly, she had no idea what the genie was doing or if she was even summoning him the correct way.

Having almost reached the point where she was convinced she was screwing it up somehow, tendrils of purple and blue finally emerged from the lamp and the smoke gave way to one irritated jinn. He stood with his arms folded, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but there, and Lucy didn't blame him for it.

"What do you want now?" Bickslow sighed. "Do you wish to debate my existence some more? Or perhaps just insist that you're still dreaming and that I'm a figment of your imagination?"

"I… No. That's not it." She couldn't even complain about him assuming things either, because she'd do the same. Setting the lamp back on top of the fireplace, Lucy looked down to twist the hair-tie she had around her wrist. "I don't really know _how_ you're actually real, but… I know I'm not just dreaming."

Well, it was progress, but Bickslow wasn't exactly sure there was any need for it when the last he'd checked, Lucy had said she didn't need him. "Good for you. Was that it?"

Lucy's brow furrowed as she watched the genie. She really had offended him, hadn't she? "Well, I thought… I thought you'd want to, um… You know… Tell me your rules now…" she mumbled. "You did mention something about rules, didn't you?"

"Yes, but why would I bother with that now?"

"So I can use you." She grimaced. It sounded so horrible when she said it out loud, but she had to remember that he wasn't human and that was what she was supposed to do with him. "I mean, so I know _how_ to use you," Lucy added quietly.

Of all the things to have happen, that was not one Bickslow had expected. He hadn't really expected Lucy to summon him again after that morning. He hadn't really expected her to accept that she wasn't just dreaming him up. But he definitely hadn't expected her to want to actually use him, either. She was stubborn, that much was clear, and stubborn people didn't change their minds very often.

Lucy happening to change her mind, however… Well, that was a good thing. He lived to serve, after all, and if he could be of use to his stubborn master, then he'd be a happy genie.

Lips curling up into a grin, Bickslow flashed to appear behind his master in an instant, startling her as he leant over her shoulder. "So you wish to make use of my power now, is that it?"

"I… I guess so…" Lucy said meekly. For someone who didn't technically have a physical form, as far as Lucy understood, she was far too aware of the genie's presence. It was almost as if she felt warmer where he stood.

"You do realise that once you enter a contract with me, you can't get rid of me or give away my lamp until you die, right?"

"Wait… But don't I only get three wishes? How does that work if the contract only ends with my death?"

"Three wishes? Oh, honey, no. Now _that_ is a myth."

"Oh…" She supposed that was what she got for believing the cartoons she'd grown up watching. Shaking her head first, she turned to face Bickslow again. She almost preferred him when he was scowling – he wasn't quite so annoying to look at, all smug and magical. "But, yes, fine. I agree to whatever it is I need to agree to." Honestly, Lucy wasn't even sure what she had to lose by entering the contract. What could go wrong? "Is there like a magical paper I need to sign with my blood now or something?"

Bickslow closed his eyes and sighed through his nose. Lucy was a special one, alright. "No, just… Just no." He couldn't even be bothered messing with her and giving her some bullshit paper to stamp with a bloody thumbprint. "Here, hold your hand up like this." He lifted up his right hand so his palm was towards her.

"Why?" Lucy asked, lifting her hand anyway. "I mean, I thought you said I couldn't touch you…"

"Stop asking questions and close your eyes." There wasn't technically a need for her to not see right then, but Bickslow wasn't going to tell her that he just got nervous sometimes. That part always made him feel weird. With Lucy's eyes closed and certain that she wouldn't peek straight away, he pressed his palm flat against Lucy's, spreading his fingers to mirror her own.

Lucy didn't feel anything at first, not that she'd expected to anyway. But then she felt something warm against her hand, spreading down to her wrist and up to her fingertips, and the warm turned to hot and the hot turned to burning in just a few seconds. She tried to draw her hand back but failed, and then quickly opened her eyes to see what was holding her hand in place.

"What the—" A golden light swirled around where she could only assume their hands were somehow joined.

"I told you to keep your eyes closed," Bickslow scowled. It still wasn't necessary, but it made his life easier. He'd found that it was also easier for him to gain access to their thoughts when they weren't really seeing the connection being formed. He didn't have to wade through as much confusion and fear then. But it had still always been an odd feeling for him, connecting to his master's thoughts. Sometimes it just felt way too invasive – although it was a feeling that never lasted long.

Lucy found herself watching in awe. The burning in her palm grew dull after a few more seconds, leading her to believe that it – whatever _it_ was – was almost over. Then, the searing heat returned in an instant, that time all along the top side of her middle finger. She tried again to pull her hand away, once again finding herself incapable of doing so. She couldn't even complain about the pain before Bickslow softly said, "I know. Just a few more seconds." It wasn't easy for him, either, although he didn't get the burning side-effect.

Lucy only told herself that it was because he'd had to do that countless times before. He totally wasn't reading her mind.

Finally, the burning subsided and the light around their hands disappeared as the genie folded his arms again. Her hand almost felt numb as she lifted her other hand to rub it. It was then that she noticed the elegant swirl that was just above her knuckle, just a shade darker than her skin and almost resembling a simple flame. "Wait… Is this… Is this from… _that_?" she asked.

"It is," Bickslow answered. "It's the mark of the jinn. It means our minds are now connected. Or, well, it's more so that I'm connected to yours, but whatever."

"My mind? So… So, what, you can read my thoughts now?"

"More or less."

"Prove it then."

He tilted his head slightly, the corner of his mouth lifting into a small smirk. "Prove it?" he repeated. "You're wondering just how the hell you lasted twenty-three years without knowing how much magic was in the world."

"I… Okay, that was too easy. That doesn't count." Really, considering she now had some magical tattoo on her finger and was talking to a genie, it was just a given that she was wondering about that. _Think of something else, Lucy._ If Bickslow really could read her mind, which she wished she'd known about before she'd agreed to enter a seemingly unending contract with him, then he would most definitely know what she was trying her best to push to back of her mind at that very second while she struggled to focus on something else for him to pick out.

And then he began to snicker, only making Lucy cringe and turn quickly to run away from the annoying genie.

"Seriously?" Bickslow chuckled, following Lucy into her small kitchen. "You're actually wondering what I look like with my shirt off?"

"…Shut up! I was not!" It had been a fleeting thought. It didn't count for anything. Apparently she was just going to have to keep her errant thoughts in check, now that she had a genie reading every one of them. "Now, tell me your stupid rules."

* * *

 _Eh. I'm kind of making up lore for this as I go. It's more fun. Also, yes, I will alternate between genie/jinn as I see fit._

 _On another note, I have an exam in five days and I haven't attended a class for the last two months. Oops. Wish me luck?_

 _Reviews are always appreciated._


	3. Wish Upon a Jinn

"Ah, yes, my rules," Bickslow said, clapping his hands together. For some reason, he'd always liked this part, and with how stubborn and hesitant Lucy had been to even accept that he wasn't just part of her imagination, Bickslow loved that he was finally getting to share the age-old rules with her. "They're quite simple, really, so even you would be able to remember them."

Lucy felt like he'd just called her stupid, but she wasn't going to comment on it. "I'm guessing the first one is that I have to use my wishes wisely, since I only have three of them?" she said, returning to her lounge room with the nearly full glass of wine. It was only once she'd sat down that she realised she probably should've just brought the bottle in with her.

"Three wishes? Oh, honey, no. Now _that_ is a myth." Bickslow shook his head and clicked his tongue. The failings of the modern education system were always going to surprise him. "Like I said, the contract only ends when you die - or, technically, when _I_ die, but really, we don't die very often so it's far more likely your death will end it, whenever that may be," he explained. At that point, Bickslow was kind of hoping his new master would have a short life. He wasn't fond of headaches. "Anyway, there'd be no point of staying in your service for the rest of your life if I could only grant _three_ wishes, don't you think? Most people tend to use those up in the first day or two anyway…"

Lucy nodded. "I see… Fair point," she mumbled. Why she was _still_ bothering to think that her childhood animations had gotten something right about genie-kind, she wasn't sure. They were cartoons and nothing more. This was real life, and clearly, that was different. Although really, Lucy had never thought she'd see the day where she found herself saying that to herself. "So I get unlimited wishes?"

"Correct."

"So… Was that rule number one? Wait, should I be writing these down? Let me go get a pen and some paper."

Bickslow could only roll his eyes as Lucy quickly got up to run over to her desk and grab something to write with. Not once, in all of his thousands of years, had anyone ever written his rules down. He really didn't even know where to begin with Lucy. When she sat back down, notepad on her lap and pen poised in her hand, and looked back up and waited for him to continue, he just sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. _If only I could actually get drunk._ That would be great right about then. "No, that's not a rule," he sighed. "That's just a fact."

She scribbled out the first line on the page "Okay. Got it. What are your rules then?"

"Number one." He lifted his hand to begin counting off fingers. "Do not wish for wealth. I will not and I _can_ not grant it."

Lucy nodded and quickly wrote it down. "No… money…" she repeated, looking up as she added a full stop. "Makes sense."

"Number two: do not wish for love. I cannot manipulate humans to do something they truly do not desire."

"Uh-huh…"

"Three: do not wish for me to kill someone."

Lucy looked back up. "Eh? Why would I do that?" she asked.

Bickslow shrugged. "You'd be surprised what happens to a person's mind when they find out they have an all-mighty supernatural being at their mercy." He'd done things he was too old to care about. But if anything, Bickslow suspected Lucy would be one person who really did follow his rules.

"I see… Well, I won't," she said. "Because I don't want to and because it's a rule. So, next?"

"Right. Number four…" He tilted his head for a second before continuing, "Actually, I guess this is more like _three-B_."

"Oh, okay."

"I can't bring someone back from the next world."

"The next world?" Lucy echoed.

"The dead. I cannot bring someone back from the dead," he said. That was just something he _couldn't_ do. That was beyond his power. But even if he was capable of it, he wouldn't do it. It really wasn't pretty.

"Oh. Right…" she murmured, writing it down on her page slowly. There were people she'd loved to see again, her family and even some of her friends, but Lucy wouldn't have even thought of asking for them to be brought back if Bickslow hadn't mentioned it. Still though, it wasn't something she could wish for anyway, and she really wasn't interested in finding out what happens when she breaks a genie's rule. "Um, are there any other rules then?"

"Nope, that's it." He didn't have many rules, because they were just the universal rules. "Unless you wanna add _'don't wish for stupid things'_ to that little list of yours."

Lucy scowled for a moment before looking down to write it anyway, seemingly against her better judgment. "So no wealth, no love, no killing or reviving, and nothing stupid," she said, reading down her list. "That's it. Seriously?"

"Seriously."

Part of her had expected there to be at least another dozen or so, but four little rules? She could easily deal with that, especially since they weren't ones that bothered her at all. While it would be nice to have a little more money, she didn't care to wish for it - she'd rather _earn_ it. She wasn't at all interested in having someone fall in love with her, because that was kind of just gross. And, while she had people who drove her up the goddamn wall, she wasn't going to wish for them to be dead. She wasn't going to wish for people to be brought _back_ from the dead, either. Bickslow's rules weren't going to be a problem for her at all.

Well, maybe the fourth one would be, since she wasn't entirely sure what her genie classified as stupid.

She set her list down on the coffee table and then tucked her feet under her. "So, um… How do I like, you know, _wish_ for things?" Lucy asked nervously.

Bickslow raised an eyebrow at the human. "Are you actually serious right now?"

"Well, yes…" _Guess I know what_ ** _stupid_** _means._ "I mean, it's not like I've ever had to do this before!" she defended herself.

Bickslow couldn't help but sigh. Humans, they were so cute sometimes. They were also just fucking dumb. Lucy was no exception. "Summon me, and then just say what it is you wish for," he finally said, shaking his head. "You don't even have to say it, if you don't want to."

"Why not?"

He pulled his sleeve up to show the thick black lines that swirled around his forearm, disappearing under his sleeve and continuing on to his shoulder and his chest and his abdomen. He hadn't yet seen just what they looked like, but he knew they were there. He'd felt them being made. "Because _this_ means that I am connected to you until you die," he mumbled. "You're not the only one who gets branded when you enter a contract with one of my kind." Bickslow did always find that particular part of the whole process interesting, though - the marking. They were always slightly different. Sometimes the lines were jagged and sharp, and there were no smooth lines anywhere. Sometimes they were more intricate. Or sometimes he'd end up with just a few vines twisting around his hand and up to his elbow.

The mark on his master was always the same, every single time, but even that was different for every single genie out there. Each one had their own unique branding, and the barely visible flame on Lucy's right middle finger was just his own mark of the jinn.

Lucy almost wanted to reach out to touch them, but she knew she couldn't. Instead, she looked down to her hand on her lap and just ran her thumb over her own mark. "So… So you mean that as long as it's clear in my head, it still counts as a wish?" she asked.

"More or less," Bickslow answered, pulling his sleeve back down.

"Can I… Can I try it then?"

"You can do whatever your human heart desires."

Lucy nodded, and she pursed her lips as she tried to think of something to wish for. She supposed to had to be something simple, since she really just wanted to see how the jinn granted wishes, but as the thought, the only thing Lucy could think of was her favourite banana split from her favourite restaurant back home. Surely Bickslow would be able to that. "I wish… for a _Mr. Jerry's Spectacularastic Banana Split Bowl_ ," she finally said.

"A fucking _what_?" Bickslow spluttered.

"A _Mr. Jerry's_ —"

"No, I heard you," Bickslow quickly said. "I just have no fucking idea what _that_ is." And last time he'd been awake, he could've sworn that _spectacularastic_ wasn't even a word.

"Oh. Um, well… It's… It's a giant banana split that's covered in chocolate-covered strawberries, chocolate fudge pieces, wafers, vanilla—"

"Just… Just picture it for me." If he had an image to work with, he could probably do it, but since he wasn't quite his usual all-mighty self just yet, he really couldn't just go off a thought. A picture, though, he could work with.

"Right, okay…" Lucy mumbled. She closed her eyes and tried to picture it in her mind, the decadent and overly indulgent dessert with three different ice-cream flavours, chocolate strawberries, three different sauces, and delicious morsels of fudge brownies and chopped peanuts.

After a moment of searching, Bickslow found it at the forefront of Lucy's consciousness, and he grimaced. "That looks fucking revolting," he muttered. How humans had lived as long as they had when they came up with that kind of shit, he wasn't sure. Shaking his head, he honoured his master's wish and held out both hands, willing the disgusting dessert to form in his palms. "And it looks a whole lot worse in person."

Lucy opened her eyes again and looked up to her genie as he placed the giant bowl in front of her on the coffee table. Complete with the cherries on top, the chocolate wafer sticks, and the rainbow lollipops at the top of it, it was exactly as she remembered it. "Holy shit, that is amazing," she whispered. She didn't stop herself from reaching forward to pull the spoon from the top of it, trying to get a bit of everything on it before she struggled to fit in her mouth. Lucy couldn't help but moan a little as the ice-cream began to melt in her mouth. "And it tastes just as amazing as I remember, too," she mumbled with her mouth full of banana and ice cream.

Bickslow cringed. Humans could be such vile creatures sometimes.

"Here, try some!"

Bickslow shook his head when his master held out the spoon for him. "No, no no no. I would literally rather die."

"Please?" Lucy begged. "Just a little bit. Don't make me wish for it."

He narrowed his eyes at his master. "You wouldn't."

Lucy gave a small shrug. She'd quickly realised that she was the one with the power - well, figuratively at least. And her dessert was so good that she really just wanted to share it. Plus, it'd be a waste if she didn't because she had never, to that day, finished one on her own. "I would, actually," she said, taking another spoonful for herself. "Come on. Please."

Bickslow scowled as he stepped over the table and sat down on the small lounge next to her. "I hate you already," he muttered. Sometimes he wished he couldn't eat human food, but he'd missed his chance to say that.

"That's not very nice."

"I'm a genie. Genie's aren't inherently nice." They were technically slaves, after all. Taking the spoon from his master, Bickslow shuddered. It really did look horrible, and hesitantly putting the spoon in his mouth, he found it tasted even worse. Lucy couldn't help but giggle as she watched his face scrunch up, hid disgust clear as he groaned and shook his head quickly. "Nope, that's it. That's fucking horrible," he said, shuddering again when he swallowed and he could still taste it on his tongue. "You humans all have a death wish, I swear."

"Come on," Lucy giggled. "It wasn't that bad."

"No, it was. It was horrible. And now, if you'll excuse me, I am going back to my lamp where there are no horrible _spectacularastic_ desserts in sight."

Lucy didn't get a chance to complain before the jinn quickly disappeared back into the spout of the bronze lamp, leaving a quickly fading trail of purple and blue smoke.

* * *

Lucy woke to the shrill tone of her alarm once again, and she groaned as she blindly reached out for her phone on the bedside table to turn it off. She really didn't want to be getting up right then, and she wanted to stay in bed so much that she seriously debated calling her boss to tell him that she wouldn't be in that day. She'd had half a bottle of wine and enough ice cream to feed five other people for dinner, and she was definitely regretting it.

But, she needed the money, and Tuesdays were usually quiet, so she dragged herself out of bed despite how much her head and her stomach disagreed.

She rubbed her eyes as she padded out into the hall and towards her kitchen, yawning as she switched on the lights on the way. She didn't pay any attention to the genie sitting at her small dining table and flicking through that morning's newspaper, only walking past him to get to her sink and grab a glass of water. It was only when she turned to grab a glass that he even noticed him, and she just froze with one hand still reaching for the glass in the cabinet above her tiny breakfast bar.

"Oh," she said, blinking slowly. "You're… You're here."

"And you're not wearing any pants," he replied, turning his attention back to the paper with just an amused smirk on his lips as Lucy yelped and looked down to herself. "Is it really 2017, though? Gods, I'm getting old."

Lucy could only be glad that she had the counter hiding her bottom half. Still, if she'd known her stupid genie was going to be up and about in the morning, then she would've made a point of putting on some shorts or something. "W-Well… Well it's my house!" she pointed out. "I don't have to wear pants if I don't want to!"

Bickslow shrugged. "Don't you worry, darlin'. I can guarantee you I've seen far worse than your kitten-print panties," Bickslow mumbled. At least Lucy wore underwear, anyway. His last master hadn't exactly liked to wear anything at all to bed or in the mornings.

Lucy really wasn't sure she wanted to know what Bickslow could possibly have seen in his many years on that planet. But still, she was just a little curious to know just how long he'd been on Earth. And even then, was he even from Earth? There were so many things she wanted to ask him. "So, uh… How old are you anyway?" she asked, finally grabbing her glass to fill it with water.

"Me? Oh… Let's see…" Bickslow set the paper down as he let out a heavy sigh. "Almost two-thousand. Ten years off, actually."

" _Two-thousand?!_ "

"What?"

"I just… I didn't think you'd been around that long," Lucy whispered. She'd thought he was maybe a couple hundred years old, maybe a thousand at the absolute most. But two thousand? Now she had plenty more questions to ask him, especially since she'd always had a bit of an interest in history.

Bickslow huffed. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, the elders on the jinn council are all well into their nine-thousands now." He felt old, but he knew he wasn't at all. He was technically one of the youngest, with the last jinn being born not long after the fall of the Roman Empire.

"That's just… insane." Lucy really didn't know what else to call it. "But, uh… Is there a reason you're, you know, awake?" she asked. Because she really hadn't expected him to be. She thought it'd be like the kind of thing where he only came out when she summoned him and all that.

"I was stuck in my lamp for six decades. Forgive me if I want a little fresh air for a change."

"Right, well, uh…" She tried pulling on the hem of her shirt just to hide her underwear, but failed dismally when she realised the stretch of the fabric wasn't on her side. "I have to go to work, so…"

Bickslow sat up quickly. "Wait, so you're leaving?" he asked.

"Well, not right now, but soon, yes."

"Oh…"

For a moment, Lucy thought that her genie looked a little disappointed. And that didn't make any sense because she knew that he didn't like her.

"In that case, I will, uh… return to my lamp," Bickslow said, standing up and bowing slightly. "I will awake when you return."

And once more, Lucy didn't get a chance to say anything before the purple and blue smoke trail that flew past her into her lounge room faded. She was beginning to think that she was just going to have to get used to that.

* * *

 _The rules I didn't come up with, clearly. But the rest is really just stuff I'm making up on the spot and going with it. I do plan on exploring more of Bickslow's actual past in this AU though, and I'm excited for that._

 _Also, Bickslow's marking/tattoo/branding is very much inspired by tribal tattoos. There is one specific image that heavily inspired it, and you can find it on tinyurl here:_ ** _/geniebixmark_** _(add the tinyurl link before it. Hopefully that makes sense)._

 _Anyway, hope you enjoyed, and reviews are always appreciated!_


	4. A Faithful Servant

_I like working on this story every now and then because the chapters are short and they're easy to get out (because it's usually only one or two scenes, which is so unlike the rest of my stories). Anyway, I hope you enjoy. It's still a bit slow, but it'll get there eventually, I promise. I was planning on having this a bit longer, but I kinda liked it as it was. The next chapter will be a little better._

* * *

As soon as Lucy had left for work, Bickslow slowly emerged from his lamp, cautiously checking the room to make sure it was empty before he finally settled in his form. He'd never really had a master who had a day job, or at least he'd never had a master who had _kept_ their day job after entering a contract with him. With Lucy gone for the day, Bickslow just didn't really know what to do with himself. He was used to shadowing his master, being at their every beck and call no matter the time, but it was a little hard to be a faithful servant to a master that wasn't even there.

If he'd had his full strength and his power back, then he might've just followed her, but Bickslow had never really been able to go far from his lamp for very long. Only the elders could travel where they pleased. Ordinary jinn like him were merely house slaves, nothing more and nothing less.

He knew from the day before that it would be hours before Lucy returned home, but that was about it. He usually learned everything there was to know about his master fairly quickly, but with Lucy… With Lucy, things hadn't been quite so simple. It didn't help that she'd been hesitant to enter the contract with him anyway, but still, even being connected to her thoughts, Bickslow had found that Lucy really wasn't all that she _appeared_ to be. And that annoyed the living hell out of him, because that meant he'd have to work to figure out all of her painfully embarrassing secrets, and Bickslow really didn't want to have to do that. His job was technically supposed to be easy, damn it.

In any case, with Lucy gone for the day, Bickslow needed something to do. And he needed to learn more about his new master so he could be her faithful servant, so Bickslow couldn't think of anything better than snooping through Lucy's house. There was no such thing as privacy once you entered a contract with a genie. If Lucy had a problem with him going through her belongings to see if she had _puppy_ -print underwear as well, then he'd merely need to point out the fact that it was exactly what she'd agreed to. She'd just need to accept that there was now an immortal, magical being at her beck and call - one that had no respect for boundaries.

Boundaries were overrated anyway. He'd tell Lucy anything she wanted to know about him if she asked, not that he really had anything to tell anyway. He may be a genie, but he wasn't a _complete_ heathen. He had _some_ understanding of morals and basic human principles, but for the most part, he thought they were overrated too. Humans were just so prickly at times.

Bickslow remembered the house from his last master, but it had been far nicer then, and in a far better shape, too. The paint was faded and peeling in some places, and the floral wallpaper in the hall was just beginning to fall off the walls, exposing the original faded pattern from when Bickslow had last seen it. The floorboards creaked throughout the kitchen and living room, and the fireplace in front of the lounge was crumbling and filled with more broken tiles and ash than anything else. The white tiles in the kitchen were stained from all the years of neglect, and the wooden cupboards were scuffed and scratched. And in the bathroom… Bickslow didn't even want to think about just how long Lucy had been forced to stand in that tub for a shower. It was the stuff of nightmares.

Outside didn't look much better either, at least as far as Bickslow could see through the windows - apparently he was weaker than he thought after lying dormant for so long, and he couldn't even go outside yet. The rose bushes by the fence that his last master had tended to every morning were long gone, and the grass in the large yard was dry and dead. He wouldn't be surprised if the odd shingle had fallen off the roof, too. The place was in shambles. He couldn't for the life of him figure out why Lucy had moved into the dump.

After exploring the house and looking inside every drawer and cupboard he could find, Bickslow found himself searching for something to do. He was used to being assigned menial tasks like cleaning, and while he would've had no problems doing the same for Lucy, he wasn't going to when it hadn't even been her wish. He didn't do anything unless it was what his master wished for, and, well… Lucy hadn't wished for anything so far other than a ridiculous sundae.

But, he did still need to regain his power, and with nothing else to do, Bickslow decided to just return to his lamp and sleep until Lucy returned home.

Except it wasn't long before Bickslow grew bored of that, too. And as much as he probably _needed_ to sleep, after six decades of it, sleeping was the last thing he _wanted_ to do. So with nothing else to do, Bickslow merely left his lamp once more and sat himself right in the middle of his master's lounge, and waited.

* * *

Lucy let her bag slip down from her shoulder as she turned her key in the lock, letting out a sigh as she pushed the door open. All she wanted to do was fix up something for dinner, go soak in a warm bubble bath, and sleep. It had been a long day and she'd had a headache all afternoon.

"Hi! You're back! How was your day? Can I get you something?"

Lucy couldn't help but let out a little scream, dropping her keys and her bag as she clutched a hand to her chest. How she'd forgotten she had a damn genie living with her now, Lucy had no idea. _I'm really going to have to get used to that._ She only hoped Bickslow wouldn't be making a habit of doing _that_ whenever she got home, because she wasn't sure her heart would be able to handle it, and she wasn't too fond of having a heart-attack in her twenties.

"Damn it," she hissed, scowling at the genie standing just behind her and letting out a tired sigh again as she turned slowly and picked up her things after closing the door behind herself. "Why did you have to do that? That wasn't very nice!"

Bickslow blinked and followed his master through the small house. "What? Do what? What did I do?"

"Scare me like that!"

"Oh…" He hadn't really wanted to _scare_ her. Not really, anyway. "Well… Well I'm sorry," he mumbled.

Lucy scoffed. She highly doubted that Bickslow was actually sorry. The genie just didn't seem like the type to apologise, at least as far as she knew. She couldn't help but glance curiously over her shoulder, and of course seeing the genie still trailing behind her, she couldn't but feel a little uncomfortable. She was so used to living alone that having an immortal fucking being shadowing her was more than a little unnerving. She really hoped he wasn't going to be making a habit of doing _that_ either. She could accept that he existed, but she sure as hell couldn't deal with him annoying the living hell out of her by greeting her the second she got through the door and then trailing behind her like a lost soul.

And if she thought about it, it was just a little amusing, too. Weird, but amusing.

"Are you okay there?" she asked, a hint of a smile on her lips as she glanced over her shoulder again and set her bag down on the kitchen counter.

"Hm? Yes, of course." Bickslow nodded quickly as he came to a sudden stop behind her. It was probably a good thing he couldn't actually walk into her or objects - at least not while he was in _that_ form anyway. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because you're shadowing me like an annoying little puppy."

"I'm not... I'm not an annoying puppy, thank you." He found that rather insulting, too, to be compared to such a miserable little creature. Him, a magical and intelligent being, being equated to a four-legged fiend that chased its own tail. Bickslow wasn't sure he'd ever been called something so horrendous. He was almost inclined to retreat to his lamp to sulk, but it was boring in there and he wasn't interested in being _that_ petty.

"Well, you're sure acting like one," she muttered. Sighing, Lucy kicked off the canvas shoes in the middle of the kitchen, making a mental note to put them away later, and turned to her fridge, swinging the door open to stare at the contents of it. She'd been so busy cleaning on the weekend that she hadn't had the chance to pick up more groceries. And while she had a few things left that she could make, like spaghetti or some packet soup or even scrambled eggs on toast, none of those sounded at all appetising to her right then. She didn't even have any microwave meals left in her freezer since she'd taken the last one to work for lunch that day. "I really need to go shopping…" Lucy sighed to herself again, eyes darting to the side when she saw movement in the corner of her eyes and found the genie creeping closer again, only stopping once he realised he'd been caught. Her parents had always told her food fairies didn't exist and that food didn't magically appear in the fridge if she stared at it long enough, but that still didn't stop her from wishing. A self-stocking fridge would be a godsend. "I have nothing to eat…"

Bickslow was sure that if he was a dog, then his ears would've pricked up. He wasn't a dog, thankfully, but he did lean forward slightly just to peek over Lucy's shoulder and into her bare fridge. He had to admit that he found the idea of _magical fridge fairies_ just a little odd, especially since he'd never heard it before, but technically he was capable of giving his master a self-stocking fridge. Sort of. He could be her magical fridge fairy - well, magical fridge _genie_. "I can make you food," he said.

Lucy flinched again. She already knew for certain the genie was going to be the death of her. "What do you mean?" she asked.

Bickslow gave a small shrug, continuing to peer over his master's shoulder curiously. "You want food, don't you? I can make whatever you wish for. I can even be your little _fridge fairy_ if you so desire it."

"That's not… Get out of my head!"

"I can't exactly help it…" Bickslow said quietly. "And I'm not exactly _in_ your _head_."

Lucy didn't care _what_ it was. The point was that he was hearing her thoughts and there were certain things that she would really love to keep to herself. She liked her privacy, that's all. She huffed and slammed the fridge door shut, then turned to rummage in one of the drawers to pull out the crinkled delivery menu. She couldn't _really_ afford it, but she couldn't be bothered getting back into her car and driving back into town to get anything, so she would splurge instead. She'd just have to remember to go grocery shopping after work tomorrow. "Well, still, I don't want you reading my every thought," Lucy mumbled, scanning the menu for something that tickled her fancy. There were plenty of things she hadn't tried since moving there, so she just didn't quite know what to order. "And I don't want you making me anything, or being my _fridge fairy_ , thank you."

Bickslow stood back quickly, opening his mouth as if to say something then shutting it just as quickly when he realised he didn't actually know _what_ to say. _Did she just…_ Bickslow was certain his master had just said she didn't want him getting her anything to eat, and that was just strange. He knew Lucy was different to all his other masters, but he'd still assumed that she'd want to use his powers at some point. He was there to serve, to make things easier and more convenient, but Bickslow almost wondered if Lucy had actually _realised_ that.

"Are… Are you sure?" he asked skeptically. No one really said no to him. He wasn't used to it. And after being left to his own devices for the whole day, all Bickslow wanted to do grant some stupid wishes. That was just what he did, and he couldn't even do that it seemed. "You don't want one of those stupid ice-creams again?" He rushed forward, coming to stand at the end of the counter next to where Lucy was still reading the menu, and formed the ridiculously indulgent dessert in his outstretched palms. "Or… Or maybe a roast? Do people still eat those this century?" The dessert was replaced by a plate laden with roast vegetables a perfectly roasted chicken. "Or! Or maybe some spaghetti instead? You can't tell me you don't want _that_."

Lucy finally looked up from her menu and to the genie with the hopeful yet panicked look on his face. It wasn't like she had much to compare it to, but she still thought that he was acting rather strangely right then. And admittedly, the plate piled high with spaghetti that he was holding out to her smelled really good, but that wasn't enough for her to actually take it. She just didn't really want it. She didn't really want anything from him, if she was honest. Lucy just hadn't had a chance to figure out what her genie's purpose would actually be, since she didn't really have anything to wish for right then.

Still, he was acting strange, and Lucy felt an inkling of worry creep up inside her. "Are you okay?" she asked cautiously.

Bickslow nodded quickly once more. "Yes, of course I am. You asked me that before." He'd be better if his damn master would just fucking wish for something, but that was beside the point. Sort of. "Why would I be okay? I'm perfectly okay. There's never anything wrong with my kind."

"Right… Sure…" Lucy mumbled. _Like **that's** not suspicious._ "Because you're acting kinda weird… Or at least _weirder_ than you were _yesterday_ …"

"No I'm not."

"Um, yeah… You kinda are. I mean, you're kinda invading my personal bubble here…" She waved a hand up and down in the space between them for effect, with Bickslow's eyes following the movement. "And now you're trying to feed me…"

Bickslow shrugged. "Humans require food to survive."

"Okay, fine, that's fair," Lucy mumbled. She supposed she had to give him that one, but that really hadn't been her point. "But I just… don't want you to, okay? Just, you know, following me around and trying to help me and whatnot - because I guess that's what you're trying to do. Am I right?" Perhaps the following hadn't made it obvious, but his apparent need to give her food sure did, and really, Lucy just didn't want it. She didn't need it. And when the genie remained silent, his mouth turning down into a slight frown and making a point of looking away, Lucy figured she'd been right. She had to admit she felt a little guilty for it, too. "I just really don't need anything, so you can just… go and do whatever it is you do," she added softly.

Bickslow didn't know what else to do, other than give a simple nod as he emptied his hands of the plate. "As you wish," he mumbled, taking his leave back to his lamp. He got the message loud and clear - she didn't want _or_ need his services. And actually _hearing_ it, Bickslow couldn't help but wonder if it really was always going to be like that, right up until their contract had ended. He still hoped that Lucy would require him at some point, and that she'd come to her sense and realise how fucking _lucky_ she was to have a being like him at her beck and call, but his doubt was already beginning to outweigh his hope.

Perhaps Lucy was more different than he'd thought. Perhaps he really would've been better off staying in his lamp and just waiting for the next person to come along and find him, because as far as Bickslow could tell, he wasn't going to be of service for a while yet.

He couldn't even bear to think what the elders would think of him right then, but he knew they'd be at least a little ashamed.


	5. Compromise

_This was not the story I planned on updating, but this was the only thing I could work on. Last month has been insanely stressful between uni, mental health issues (six hours of extreme anxiety is not fun!), and my grandfather suddenly getting sick and passing away._ _It also doesn't help that I've been playing Sea of Thieves religiously for the last month... That shit is way too addicting (and has me constantly thinking of my upcoming pirate AU I've teased at in some drabbles)._

 _I had planned on getting HIMY or APS updated (at 15k words and 5k words respectively at the moment, but neither are near complete), but I got a little stuck there..._

 _Anyway, sorry for the lack of updates as usual. I've got a little bit of free time after the first week of May before my exams and uni placement at the end of June, but who knows if I'll get anything done. Just trying to slowly chip away at chapters for the time being._

* * *

It wasn't long before Lucy found herself getting used to seeing her new jinn friend around her house first thing in the morning and whenever she got home from work. After nearly a week of it, she couldn't help but find it a little amusing.

In the mornings, he would either be hovering right over her, waiting for her to open her eyes before he quickly asked if he could get her anything, often magicking a cup of coffee or a giant tray piled high with the best smelling breakfast ever; or he'd be waiting in her kitchen and asking if she really had to go to work, and trying his best to tempt her to take a day off and let him do his job.

In the evenings, he'd be at her door the second she opened it and he'd be asking her once more if there was anything she needed or wanted from him. It had been a little strange at first having a magical and presumably immortal being following her around her house and asking her whenever he could if he could do anything, but before long, Lucy really did grow to enjoy it just a little bit.

Her new genie really was like a little puppy.

A little puppy that happened to be bored and _desperately_ wanted her to just fucking wish for something, it seemed.

On Saturday, Lucy woke to the sound of galahs in the tree across from her house once again - mother nature's alarm clock. It was going to be a busy weekend, and as exhausting as it was going to be, Lucy was still looking forward to what she had planned. Stretching her arms above her head and her legs out under the sheet, she took one last moment to savour the warmth of her bed before deciding to open her eyes and start her day.

Just on the other side of the house, Bickslow peeked an eye open from inside his lamp when he sense his master waking. Quickly vacating his lamp, Bickslow appeared just in front of the tired blonde right as she walked out of her bathroom. "Good morning!"

Lucy hadn't even seen the over-excited genie, too busy rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. She had to steady herself with a hand on the wall. "Jesus! Stop doing that!" Lucy shook her head as she made a point of stepping past him in the narrow hall - sometimes she still had a hard time remembering that he didn't actually have a physical form and she really could just walk straight through him. "Are you _trying_ to give me a heart attack?"

Bickslow tilted his head slightly as he followed her. "Stop doing what?" he asked.

"Sneaking up on me all the time, and just… Just always being there whenever I turn around."

"Oh…" He supposed he had been shadowing her a little lately (or perhaps a lot), but that wasn't really his fault. Well, it kind of was. But he just wanted her to _notice_ him, and damn it, that was hard, because his master was making a point of noticing him in the _wrong_ fucking way. Bickslow straightened up, raising his chin and huffing a little as he followed Lucy into her small kitchen where she grabbed a glass from the rack to get some water. "Well, I'm not _actively_ trying to give you a heart attack," he said. He didn't want to frighten his master into an early grave, but it wasn't really his fault if she was startled easily. She should be used to him by this point. "But, as your servant—"

"You're not my servant," Lucy sighed, rolling her eyes.

"As your _genie_ ," he corrected himself, "it is my duty to be at your beck and call, and… Well… That just means following you around until you decide you need me for something."

"Uh-huh. Right."

"So. Can I get you anything?" Bickslow then asked hopefully. "Is there anything I can do? It's the weekend now, is it not? Do humans still do chores on the weekend? Oh, I can do those for you! Here, like those dishes—"

"Bickslow, no."

He froze with his hand out, pointing towards the dishes piled on the sink behind his master and ready to snap his fingers. "…Yes?" he said quietly, eyes darting between the dishes and Lucy's tired smile.

"I know you want to help, but I really don't need you to," Lucy said softly. As little as she liked doing dishes, she was still very much capable of doing them herself.

Bickslow slowly dropped his arm back to his side. "So… No?"

"No," Lucy repeated.

 _What a fucking shock_. Bickslow wasn't sure why he was surprised by it. _Of course_ Lucy would turn down his offer to help, because that was just what she did. There he was trying to make her life easier and do his damn job, but she was just being stubborn and independent. _Damn humans._ They could be so infuriating sometimes. "Fine," the genie muttered, crossing his arms and situating himself against the wall and sighing in annoyance. "One of these days you will actually wish for me to do something, though."

"Maybe. But not right now," she giggled. Lucy had to admit that she found her pouting and sulking genie strangely adorable, though. It hadn't taken her more than a few days to realise that his sulkiness was because she wasn't letting him do anything. Even knowing that, she just didn't really want him doing anything for her, and considering he was practically in her head, she would've thought that he'd see why she didn't want to wish for anything. It didn't help that she just didn't know _what_ to wish for.

Bickslow stayed in his spot for a moments, silently watching his master go about her small kitchen, making some sort of list as she went back and forth between the fridge and her cupboards. Last he'd checked, weekends were for relaxing, and there Lucy was, running around in her pyjamas and doing fuck knows what. "So what's the plan for today?" he decided to ask. "Do you have work today?"

"Nope, no work today. But I've still got _lots_ of things to get through today."

"Like?"

Lucy briefly wondered why the genie cared, but then she remembered that her genie was nosy and had a habit of asking her all kinds of questions all the time - well, when he wasn't off sulking, at least. "Well… I have to go to the garden centre first to pick up some things for the yard," she began, peering into the depths of one cupboard to see if she needed to buy some rice or if she still had a forgotten container lurking at the back - which she did, apparently. "I have to go grocery shopping, too."

"You don't _have_ to," Bickslow muttered under his breath.

Lucy merely side-eyed him before she got back up to write something else on her growing shopping list. "And then I have to get a start on cleaning up the garden in the backyard, because I've been putting it off for weeks."

It was like she was taunting him. All those things she had to do, yet he could quite literally do them all for her in an instant with just a snap of his fingers. She really was going to be the death of him, and he wasn't supposed to be able to die at all.

Tearing off the page from her notebook, Lucy stuck the list on the fridge and began humming a little tune to herself as she went off towards the hall again. Bickslow's head snapped up when he noticed her leaving and quickly began to follow her. "Where are you going now?" he asked. "Are you leaving already? You just woke up, didn't you? Don't you want to have breakfast first instead? I thought you were always hungry."

"I am _not_ always hungry, thank you very much." Lucy tried not to roll her eyes. "And I'm going to have a shower," she said, pushing open the creaking door to the small bathroom and letting herself in. Before closing it behind herself, she turned quickly to stand in the doorframe and peer up at the tall genie with a scowl, and added, "And don't even think about letting yourself in or sticking your head through the walls or ceiling again, mister. Otherwise I really won't wish for anything. Got it?"

 _Ouch_. Bickslow didn't really see what the big deal was about - he'd seen plenty of humans naked before, though none had ever shrieked as loud as Lucy had when he'd popped his head through the wall and asked her why she was using her shampoo bottle as a microphone just the day before - but when she threatened making his life long and miserable, then he had no choice but to obey. So he merely nodded curtly, swallowing and forcing a tight smile as Lucy closed the door on his face to shower in peace.

* * *

One of the things that had attracted Lucy most to the house was the yard. It had been neglected over the last few years, clearly, with weeds everywhere and all the shrubs overgrown and all of the rose bushes long dead, but that had been expected with the previous tenants having been in their late seventies when they'd passed. Still, after living in the city her whole life, when she'd first seen the small cottage in person, Lucy had known she had to take the risk and buy it. The front yard had been so inviting even with the overgrown lawn, with its winding cobble path up to the front door, and the parking space under the shady tree, and the once perfect garden beds everywhere. And then the _back_ yard… There was so much space that she could fit another two houses the size of her own in there, and there was even a swing under one shady oak tree, and an old bird bath in one area that Lucy imagined would be full of little birds in the summer months.

Lucy knew that she'd have her work set out for her when she moved in, but that really didn't bother her. Working on the house just meant she had the chance to make it her own, and that was exactly what she intended to do.

Bickslow was reading one of Lucy's trashy (at least in his opinion) magazines when she came out into her dining room, her neat clothes replaced with a bleach-stained tee and fraying denim shorts. He lowered the book just as she finished tying the folded bandana up above her head, keeping her hair out of her face. "I assume you're not actually going anywhere," Bickslow mumbled, setting the horrible excuse at journalism aside to follow his master outside.

"No, not for the rest of the day."

"So what are you doing now?"

"Now," Lucy began, struggling to pull open the rusty garden shed door before ducking in to pick up the old pruning shears, "I'm cleaning up the garden."

Bickslow couldn't help but take a step back when his master grinned almost devilishly at him. There was something terrifying about that paired with a set of giant scissors.

Deciding it was best that he just let his master get on with her task, Bickslow merely sat under the shade of one tree, fashioning himself a small cushion to sit on so he wasn't directly on the dried and poor excuse for grass. Having been awake long enough to finally have the strength to go outside and be a fair amount of distance away from his lamp, Bickslow couldn't help but find it at least somewhat interesting to see how the outside of the house had fared after all those years.

Much like the rest of the house, it had seen far better days, but Bickslow supposed that was to be expected given how much it had been neglected over the years. And if he was honest, he supposed he had to give Lucy some credit for wanting to tidy it all up and return it to its former glory…

But at the same time, that was what bothered him the most. There she was, slaving away in the sun and wasting time doing the same things that he could do with just a snap of his fingers.

"You know I could just do all of this for you," he commented, picking at the dead blades of grass beneath him. He didn't have the best concept of time, given that he'd lived for so long, but he'd wager that Lucy had already wasted a good two hours out there, pulling up all the weeds in the garden beds and ripping out the dead rose bushes.

"Hm? What do you mean?" Lucy responded. She sat back on her heels and looked to her genie, wiping her brow with her forearm and then reaching for her bottle of water nearby, taking the opportunity to have a short break.

Bickslow couldn't help but roll his eyes slightly, resisting the urge to shake his head. "I mean that my entire reason for existing is to do things like _this_." He gestured around to the garden. "I could make this entire place look good as new in a second."

Admittedly, Lucy had kind of forgotten about Bickslow's powers for a moment (although in her defence, she still wasn't entirely sure what her genie friend was capable of). She'd never considered that Bickslow would be able to help her with all of the house work and making it all nice again. She supposed he'd just wave his hand around or snap his fingers or whatever it was he did and everything would be perfect and pretty again, which in a way was somewhat tempting right then since Lucy knew it'd be months, if not _years_ before she'd worked the house into a reasonable looking state again…

But that was still time and effort Lucy was willing and _wanting_ to put into the house herself. She couldn't have Bickslow just waving his hands and doing it all for her, even if she knew that was what _he_ would rather do. But that wasn't to say that her genie _couldn't_ help her tidy things up, though. Bickslow was clearly wanting something to do, and, well… Lucy supposed she could do with a hand.

"Alright then," she said.

"Al—alright then?" Bickslow echoed, sitting up slightly. "What does that mean?"

Lucy gave a small shrug. "Why don't you help me then?"

 _Help her?_ Bickslow couldn't believe he was actually hearing the words. He was so unsure of it that he allowed himself into his master's mind to see if he was on the right page, and as far Bickslow could tell, he wasn't imagining any of it. She really was asking for his help finally - mostly because she felt bad for not wishing for anything, but it was still technically a wish. He was so excited about it that he didn't even care that he was creeping the hell out of Lucy for supposedly staring at her way too intently - although she had a fair point.

"You mean… You mean you actually want to use me?" he asked.

Lucy couldn't help but roll her eyes that time. "Please don't say it like that…" she mumbled. "But… Yes. If you want something to do, at least."

Oh, it was the best thing he'd heard since waking up again. He'd just assumed Lucy would be a thorn in his side for the rest of her annoyingly stubborn and independent life, but there she was, actually wanting him to do something!

He got up quickly, throwing away the pillow and looking around at the yard. There really was a lot to do. Bickslow almost didn't know where to begin since he didn't even know what Lucy's vision for the place was. He supposed it didn't matter though, since if Lucy was willing to use him then, then she had to be willing to use him in the future, too. In any case, he suspected Lucy wasn't interested in much more than just tidying the place up, and that wouldn't require _too_ much power - or at least he didn't think it would.

"I, uh… I mean, of course!" Bickslow cracked his knuckles as he finished looking around the yard. "What would you like done? Oh! How about I start with—"

"No no no, Bickslow!" Lucy said quickly, picking herself up from the ground and holding her hands out for him to stop.

It was the second time that day that his master had stopped him right before he'd been able to do anything, and considering Lucy had just wished for him to actually help her, he couldn't help but be a little confused. "I'll admit, I'm really fucking confused right now," he mumbled.

Lucy knew he was confused, and she could only grimace as she gave a small nod. "I know, and I'm sorry. I just… I meant for you to help me the old fashioned way, not to just, you know, wave your hand or whatever it is you do and do everything for me."

"The old fashioned way?"

"Well, the _human_ way, I suppose," Lucy muttered. She doubted she and her genie shared the same opinion on what _old fashioned_ was, considering he was supposedly two-thousand years old, and she was, well… not. Still, she didn't want Bickslow doing everything for her. If he wanted to help, then he had to do it on her terms. "You don't have to if you don't want to," she continued, sitting back down on the grass in front of the garden bed. "But, you know, since you keep bugging me about _wishing_ for something, I just thought… I thought you might accept some kind of compromise."

Had it been anyone else, Bickslow was sure he'd be finding some kind of loophole in his own rules to get out of helping Lucy right then, but it was because his master was Lucy that he just didn't bother. He didn't do _manual labour_. He didn't _physically_ do things - anything, really. He'd never had a reason to. At the same time though, no one had ever _wished_ for him to do so, but Lucy had, and it had been her first _proper_ wish, too.

And as annoying a wish as it was, it was a wish nonetheless, and Bickslow rarely ignored a wish. Besides, a compromise was better than nothing.

"As you wish," he finally said with a small nod, going to kneel down next to his master on the prickly lawn.

He didn't exactly want to mention he had no fucking clue what to do, though.


	6. Magic, Myths, and Reality Television

_So... Last few weeks have been a little hectic. Long story short is I had a lot of issues (that were out of my hands) with my course, I decided to finally leave it for the final time. I applied for another university, so I'll be starting that next year and doing a Bachelor of Arts with a double major in Professional Writing/Publishing and Creative Writing. Which, basically, is the course I wanted to be doing nearly 2 years ago, so I'm pretty excited about that._

 _So, anyway, since I have the next six months off, I'm hoping to get lots of writing done. Whether or not it'll happen is debatable since I still have to focus on my health (as always), and planning events in the community I'm currently an admin in (which is super exciting for me!)._

 _Anyway, hope you enjoy this little update. I promise I'll get some other stories updated as soon as I can. Reviews are, as always, appreciated._

* * *

"Now, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

Bickslow grumbled and crossed his arms as his master collapsed down onto the sofa with a tired sigh. No, it wasn't hard, but he sure as hell hadn't enjoyed it. He wasn't designed for doing _actual_ work, but for some fucking reason, he'd spent five hours in the harsh sun pulling weeds, gutting the garden, planting new flowers, and getting his hands actually _dirty_. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't spent the entire time questioning himself just why the fuck he was even bothering, but every time he'd just remembered that it had Lucy's goddamn _wish_.

"I still think you should've just had me do it all for you," he mumbled. "I mean, I could've done it in two seconds, and you could've… I don't know, do whatever it is you do with your free time."

Lucy sighed as she stretched her arms up above her head, a small smile spreading across her lips. "I know you could've, but that would've been no fun. It's nice to do things yourself."

"Mm-hmm, sure it is." Bickslow _definitely_ didn't agree, but he supposed that was just in his nature. Then again, Lucy's motivation to make a point of doing things herself was already proving to be interesting, and he wasn't entirely sure why. "Anyway," he said, sighing a little as he unfolded his arms and looked around at the cosy living room, admiring the little trinkets on the shelves for a moment. "What are you doing now?"

"Not sure. I think I might go take a nice, long bath, then make something for dinner, and then… Then maybe I'll just sit down here and find something to watch on T.V. Actually, that sounds like a great idea. I think I'll do just that."

Bickslow didn't get the chance to do much more than raise his eyebrow at his master before she heaved herself up from the couch with a grown and began to carry herself down to her bathroom. He'd already learnt just how much Lucy loved her baths (and her showers, for that matter), and how she loved using up _all_ of her hot water, and considering how many times she had already screamed at him about invading her privacy, Bickslow knew better than to follow her to the bathroom that time. So when he heard the bathroom door shut, followed by the click of the lock (not that it did much for _him_ , but he'd let Lucy think it actually made a difference), Bickslow just sat himself down on the couch and waited for his master like a good little genie.

An hour later, much to Bickslow's disgust, Lucy emerged from her bedroom all dressed in her mismatched pyjamas and fluffy slippers and with her hair tied loosely in a bun. Her muscles were relaxed and she could still smell the lavender from the oil in the bath.

"You know, I don't really understand what's so fascinating about sitting a tub of your own filth-water for so long," Bickslow commented as he got up to follow her into the kitchen.

Lucy couldn't help but roll her eyes as she let out a tired sigh. "It's not filth-water, thank you."

"You sure? Because it kinda is. And, I mean, no offence or anything because you're my master and all, but you were kinda gross."

"Hey! I was not!"

"Honey, you had dirt on your cheek for three hours and you didn't even notice."

"I…" Lucy huffed as her cheeks flushed red, and she couldn't help but lift a hand to her face to rub her cheek as she turned away in shame. Of course, she knew her face was clean since she had, in fact, looked at a mirror, but still. "That's not a very nice thing to say!" she said instead, glaring over her shoulder at the smug genie. "I would think you're supposed to be nice to me, not… Not make comments on my hygiene."

Bickslow shrugged as he hopped up onto the end of the counter, crossing his ankles in front of him. He really wasn't worried about offending his current master, nor was he afraid of her oh-so-scary death glare. Lucy was all bark and no bite and Bickslow already knew that. She was too innocent. Besides, considering how little she wanted him around, it wasn't like Bickslow needed to worry about her not wishing for anything. "Anyway," he began, watching as Lucy began to dig around in the cupboards under him, "I'm going to assume you're trying to find something to have for dinner now, yes?"

"You're in my head, aren't you? I'm sure you didn't need to ask me to figure that one out."

"Again, I'm not in your head." _Not unless I have to be…_ Oh no. He hated it. The only upside of being able to get inside Lucy's head was that he could tease her, but he didn't _really_ want to do that. She was becoming far too sassy and snarky for his liking already, and _he_ was supposed to be the sassy one, damn it. "I take it I won't be able to convince you to let me help you out though either, right?'

Lucy looked up just to flash a brilliant grin. "Nope!"

Bickslow couldn't help but sigh and close his eyes, not staying for a moment longer before he disappeared with a trail of coloured smoke behind him. At least if he was in his lamp he could pretend that he was actually useful. He could also throw magic darts at multiple versions of his annoying master, but that wasn't something he planned on ever admitting.

* * *

Lucy stared at the bronze lamp on the mantelpiece as she took slow bites of her pasta. Lucy still wasn't entirely sure what she was supposed to do with an actual genie, but she had to admit that his company was growing more pleasant by the day. She'd been in Mayflower for a couple of months but she barely knew anyone at all besides her boss and a few people around the town. As annoying (and strange) as Bickslow was, he was someone to talk to, and right then, Lucy wouldn't mind just sitting and having someone keep her company for a little while.

She took one more bite of food before setting it aside and getting up from her couch, picking up the lamp from atop the fireplace before sitting back down amongst the pillows. Lucy had only summoned him from the lamp a few times, but already she hated it. She was sure it was some kind of joke that she had to rub it with her hand to get him to come out. In any case, it made her cheeks warm and she couldn't help but grimace.

"Come on. Are you going to come out?" Lucy whined when rubbing the lamp only proved to leave smudged fingerprints on the metal. "I know you can hear me, Bickslow. Or, well… I think you can, at least. Anyway, stop ignoring—"

"What do you want now?"

Lucy jumped in her spot, dropping the lamp to the floor with a clang that made Bickslow drop his head and sigh. "How did you—" Lucy spun around on the cushions to see the genie standing behind her couch, arms folded as he rubbed circles into his temple. "How did you do that?" she shrieked. "I thought… You're not supposed to be able to sneak up on me like that!"

Bickslow shrugged. "I'm a magical being. I can do what I want." Besides, he hadn't been able to resist leaving his lamp that way. Scaring the shit out of his master was way too amusing, even if her shrieking was a little hard on his ears. "Now, what do you want?"

"Well, it wasn't very nice," she mumbled. She was already beginning to regret calling him out that night. Sighing, Lucy picked the lamp up off the floor and set it on the coffee table before reaching for her dinner again. "And… And I thought it would be nice to just have some company, if you must know."

"You mean me? Don't you have friends for that?"

"W-Well… No, not really…"

"Wow."

Lucy tried not to take offence to the stupid look on the genie's face. It wasn't her fault she didn't have friends. She just… hadn't had the time to make any yet. It was fine. She was too busy to socialise with people in her town anyway. "Just… Just sit down, will you?"

"…Why?"

"Because I want you to."

"Yeah, I get that." Bickslow tried not to roll his eyes. "But again, _why?_ "

"I already told you that I want company," Lucy muttered. "Now come, sit. Don't make me wish for it."

 _This seems all too familiar…_ Bickslow narrowed his eyes at the blonde just to sigh and stomp around to the front of the couch, plopping himself down in the corner. He knew Lucy wasn't kidding about wishing for it, and as much as he wanted her to wish for something, he sure as hell wasn't going to let her have that one. "Fine," he grumbled, pouting as he crossed his arms again. "I will sit here and be your _delightful_ company."

"Thank you."

With the T.V. on in the corner of the room, Lucy sat silently as she continued eating her dinner. She became all too aware of Bickslow sitting perfectly still beside her, only blinking every now and then just to prove he wasn't a decorative statue. And, as much as she liked the company, Lucy hadn't wanted him to be like that. The least he could do was make it look like he was _breathing_ or something, too. "Can't you at least make it look like you're comfortable?" Lucy grumbled, casting a sideways glance to him before shovelling some more broccoli and pasta into her mouth. "I mean, jeez. I'm not forcing you to put up with me."

"You're the one who wanted me to sit, so you kind of are forcing me to put up with you," Bickslow pointed out.

"If you really don't want to be here, then you can go back in your lamp and do whatever it is you do when I'm not here."

It was tempting, it was, but Bickslow wasn't going to do that. His job was to make Lucy's life easier, not to make her sulk, as amusing as the latter was. So he sighed, dragging his hand down his face before making a point to make himself at least appear comfortable, tucking his feet under him on the cushion. "Fine. I'm sorry," he apologised. Lucy gave a simple nod, returning to her food and her T.V. once more. The peace only lasted another moment before Lucy found something else to bug Bickslow about, and the genie rolled his eyes and groaned before Lucy even had a chance to say anything. "Gods, what is it now?"

She was inclined to just shut her mouth and not say anything at all if he was going to be like that. But instead, she steeled her nerves, look to the jinn staring back at her with a bored expression, and asked, "Can't you like, I don't know, change?"

"Change? What do you mean, change?"

Lucy shrugged. "Like… Like your clothes." She had no problems with his actual appearance, but there was something about his choice of clothing right then that just didn't sit right with her. "I mean…" Lucy looked down to her own clothes then, her faded pyjamas that made her feel just a little underdressed, before looking back to her genie. "Can't you put on something more… comfortable? You know, like pyjamas or something," she said.

"Pyjamas?" Bickslow echoed, an eyebrow raising in his confusion. He had to admit, his clothes had been growing on him the last few days. The leather jacket was surprisingly way more comfortable than half the shit his masters had preferred him to wear, although the pants he didn't particularly care much for. Either way, he was only wearing them because that was what his current master was used to. It was the same for every genie. Still, as much as he'd been learning about the world again after sleeping for several decades, he wasn't quite sure what pyjamas were supposed to look like on him, and he really, _really_ didn't want to just mimic Lucy's present outfit. The short shorts and the singlet was just something Bickslow _refused_ to be caught in. "What kind?"

"I don't know… Like… Oh! Like that!"

Bickslow looked to the television when she pointed out to a character on screen, the perfectly timed scene showing him in the most atrocious article of clothing he'd ever seen. "Aren't those for babies?"

"Well, yes, but… But that one has a tail! And an adult is wearing it, _so_ …"

Bickslow already knew he'd lost, and simply looked to the screen again as the onesie-wearing-character cracked a joke and the audience laughed in the background, and changed his attire with a snap of his fingers and a puff of purple smoke. _Perhaps the world is too far gone._ Because if _that_ was classified as pyjamas, Bickslow wasn't sure he wanted to stick around and continue being a servant.

Lucy's laughed gleefully once the fog faded and her genie became visible again. _Oh, I can have fun with this._ There he sat, with the most miserable of looks on his face, in a bright pink dinosaur onesie and with the tail curled on top of his lap. Lucy couldn't tell what she liked more about it between his face or the fact he was wearing the onesie at all. "Perfect!" she giggled, reaching out just to pull the hood up and pull it over his head.

"I'm _so_ glad you think so."

* * *

"Hey, can I ask you something?"

Bickslow wasn't sure he wanted to open his eyes when Lucy returned after taking her dishes to the kitchen. In his experience, when humans said that, it never went well. "Depends on what you want to ask," he mumbled.

Lucy waited until she'd settled herself back on her sofa to ask, her feet tucked under her and a pillow hugged to her chest. "What else is out there?" she eventually asked, ignoring the T.V still running in the background. "I mean, if you exist, what else does?"

Now that was something that got him to open his eyes. Bickslow couldn't even remember the last time someone had asked him that. Perhaps no one had asked him that. But of all the people who could ask him about the hidden magic of the universe, the fact that it was Lucy didn't surprise Bickslow. Her curiosity was intriguing, not that he'd admit it. Most people just accepted the fact that he existed and that was it.

But Lucy… Lucy was different. Bickslow still wasn't sure if that was a good thing, though, especially considering how much trouble she'd already given him.

"There's more than you could ever know," he answered softly.

"Like what?"

He didn't miss the way her eyes sparkled, and Bickslow couldn't help the way the corner of his mouth lifted in a tiny smirk. "Anything you can imagine."

Lucy scowled at him as she tossed the pillow aside. "Come on, just tell me." She might've punched his arm had she actually been able to hit him.

"Hey, you're the one who wanted to ask the questions, so ask them."

"Fine," Lucy mumbled. Turning her attention to the T.V show starting in the background, Lucy briefly wondered why the human race had a tendency to become invested in the lives of others. She quickly cast the thought out of her mind though, and turned back to her jinn to decide what she actually wanted to ask about.

Clearly she was only just dipping her toes into the world of magic, and Lucy knew she couldn't just dive straight into the depths. She didn't think Bickslow would answer _all_ of her questions either, at least not right away. If anything, Lucy was surprised he was willing to answer any at all right then.

But she had to start somewhere simple - or as simple as possible considering she was asking about a world she hadn't even known existed a week earlier.

Finally decided what she was most curious about, at least right then, Lucy shuffled forward slightly, looked up to her genie, and asked, "Were dragons ever real?" Because really, if genies were real, what else was out there?

Bickslow almost laughed. "Oh, yeah. Definitely. Talkative fuckers, too."

"Wait, seriously? They actually existed?"

"Mm-hmm. Why do you think people know about them in all those fairy tales? It's not like someone just randomly thought it up and decided to throw it in their book. Humans aren't _that_ creative. They would've been like you, asking what else existed in the world, and someone like me would've told them about it."

Lucy tried not to take offence to his little remark, although she supposed it made sense. She couldn't help but find it amusing that genies were basically the world's biggest tattletales, either. It seemed oddly fitting, though. "So what happened to them? The dragons, I mean," Lucy continued.

Bickslow gave a small shrug. "Hunted to extinction, of course. Vikings didn't like them, so they got rid of them. Honestly, it was a shame, too. They were fucking adorable." Annoying and chatty, sure, but they were cute. Bickslow had always liked them, but of course his master back then hadn't agreed. He'd had an infant dragon's head mounted to the wall in his house, right above the hearth. Back then, there'd been no greater feeling than bringing in your first dragon kill. The fact that it had been a thousand years since the last dragon had been seen was almost disappointing, but Bickslow knew better than to care about how times had changed.

"That's unfortunate…" she murmured. "Although, I'm not sure a giant fire-breathing beast would be classified as adorable. Maybe terrifying instead."

"Oh, no. Dragons were nothing like that." The genie shook his head. _Oh, the humans and their fairy tales_. He thought Lucy would've learnt not to believe everything she reads in a book by now. "Well, some of them were. Most of them were fluffy and were completely harmless. Well, assuming they weren't protecting an egg… You _never_ wanted to piss off a mother dragon. Oh no."

"You're kidding, right?"

"No. Why would I be kidding?"

"Well, I mean… You're implying that dragons were just oversized dogs. And that they _talked_ , too. That can't be true."

"Honey, I'm telling you, they were _definitely_ oversized dogs," Bickslow insisted. Although, to be fair, it was the first time he'd heard them be called that. It worked too well, though. "But instead of whining at you, which they did actually do sometimes, they just insulted you and asked why humans are so dumb."

 _And what about the_ ** _genies_** _who insult you all the time, huh?_ It was just another remark Lucy was going to ignore, because she was way more interested in learning about everything else. She could tell Bickslow off for insulting her later. "So… So why are they always written so inaccurately? If they really were like what you say they were," she asked then. She had a feeling she already knew the answer, but Lucy was beginning to learn not to assume everything she thought was correct.

"Because _furry, overgrown dog-lizard that likes to tuck you under its wings after insulting you all day_ doesn't sound quite as scary as _giant, man-eating, fire-breathing beast that wreaks havoc on everything_."

For once, Lucy had actually been right. And it did make sense. Although if she was honest, she probably would've preferred to read about the _correct_ version. "Fair enough, I suppose," Lucy mumbled. "What about… Oh! What about fairies and pixies? Are those real or just myths?"

"Fairies, no. Pixies are vicious little fucks. You do _not_ want to deal with a pixie." Bickslow shuddered at the memory of his last dealings with a pixie.

"What? Really? Why?"

"Because they will fuck you over and laugh about it for the next decade."

"Uh… Okay…" Lucy said warily. She really wasn't sure what the look of absolute terror on Bickslow's face was about, but Lucy had a feeling she didn't want to learn the reason for it, either. "What about… unicorns or pegasi?"

That time, Bickslow sighed disappointedly. "Unfortunately, those are myths." He had to commend the humans for thinking up those, though.

And for a while, the questions went on. From mermaids to wizards and to gods, Lucy asked about every possible magical being and creature she could think of. Turns out, most of them were real, or at the very least had been at one point in the universe's history. Bickslow hadn't been kidding when there'd been more magic in the air than she ever could've expected. Lucy liked to think she was better off for it, but she already knew she'd be looking at everything in the world through different eyes now and she knew that was bound to make her crazy at some point.

There came a point in the night though, long after Bickslow had admitted that he had no idea _who_ or _what_ a _Harry_ _Potter_ was (which had only ended with his master deciding they would be having a _movie marathon_ at some point, whatever the fuck that meant, and that he had to read the books sitting on the shelf if he got bored enough), and once Lucy had exhausted herself by asking way too many questions, that the television once again became a point of interest. Admittedly, he'd picked up the T.V guide sitting on Lucy's coffee table a few times throughout the week and glanced at the cringeworthy articles written in it. He'd also learnt enough about the current world to know that the humans of that decade were particularly fond of certain T.V programs…

But right then, as Bickslow sat and watched the show in front of him, Bickslow couldn't help but wonder what the fuck was wrong with the humans.

"Hey, uh…" He shifted on the lounge to make himself more comfortable, grimacing as he watched the argument on screen intently. "Since you've been asking me questions all night, I think it's fair that I ask you one now…"

"Oh. Okay," Lucy said. She had no clue what Bickslow could ask of her, but she certainly wasn't going to deny him an answer. Well, she'd try not to, at least. "What do you want to know?"

"What the _fuck_ is this reality television shit that you're forcing me to endure?"


	7. A Friend in Me

_Thank you to all for the reviews! This AU is still all over the place. I kind of like it that way._

 _Anyway, hope you enjoy, and reviews are always appreciated!_

* * *

Their talk about the hidden wonders of the universe seemed to be the proper beginning to their relationship as genie-and-master. The weeks went by quickly, the days turning to blurs with how easily they fell into a routine with each other. Lucy would spend her days at work, and Bickslow would usually spend his day glued on his master's sofa and binge watching all the reality T.V programs he could. There was something intriguing about it, watching the humans in the magic box living out their grand and fancy lives.

Of course, it was easy for Bickslow to tell that half the people he watched had a corrupt genie up their sleeve. Success didn't come that easy to humans, but when his kind got involved? Boy, was it a walk in the park. Once he'd told Lucy that her favourite _celebrities_ had genies doing their bidding, she seemed to have stopped watching them as much. Bickslow had only found it peculiar.

In any case, things only seemed to get easier between the genie and his master, and that, Bickslow enjoyed. Lucy still wasn't wishing for anything, but at some point, Bickslow had stopped finding it annoying. No matter how many times he asked her if he could do anything, she never agreed. Bickslow was sure that his brain would shut down or something the day Lucy did decide she wanted to wish for something. He'd just learned not to expect anything.

Besides, he had better things to worry about - like which faux-celebrity's sibling would release a sex tape next. Although he didn't quite get why humans found _those_ so fascinating. Bickslow supposed he'd just never quite understand the humans' fascination with filming themselves procreate. There really was nothing appealing about it whatsoever.

Hearing Lucy's keys jingle in the front door, signalling her return to her humble abode. Bickslow might not have paid much attention to it had she not been three hours late. If it was one thing he'd learned about her, it was that she had no life. Every day was the same for her. She woke up, went to work, came home from work, and did chores like a good little human. Bickslow would be lying if he said he didn't find it boring, because really, there was only so much he could take of the same routine day in and day out. Still, for Lucy to be late that day, Bickslow couldn't help but find it curious.

It wasn't like his master to stray from her routine without reason. Oh no.

"Well, well, well…" As soon as Lucy was through the door, the genie was behind her with his arms crossed and a smug grin on his face. "Look who decided to return home finally," he said. "Isn't it past your bedtime."

Lucy rolled her eyes as pushed forward into her home, heading straight for her living room where she made a beeline for the sofa. "Oh, shut up. It's not even that late." It was only a little past eight. And, sure, she was an early sleeper, but she didn't go to bed _that_ early. She aimed for lights off by ten at the latest.

"It is for you. But seriously, where were you? You missed the season finale!"

"I was out with friends," Lucy answered, giving a small shrug. Why Bickslow was pestering her about it, she wasn't quite sure. Then again, she wasn't quite sure why Bickslow did a lot of things.

Bickslow snorted, only getting a side-eye from his master in the process. "You, out with friends," he scoffed. "You and I both know that's a lie."

"It is not!"

"Honey, I'm not even sure you have _one_ friend, let alone _multiple_." Besides, he was in her head, so he knew damn well that it was a lie. But, Bickslow didn't need to be in her head to know that he seemed to have struck a nerve. _Silly humans and their emotions._ The glare she shot at him before scurrying away was just a little too obvious. "I'm… I'm sorry," he said softly. He found her back in her room, refolding the already folded laundry she'd yet to put away. "I'm sure you have at least one friend…" Honestly, Bickslow just wasn't sure.

Lucy couldn't really tell what she hated most though, the fact that he'd said it, or the fact that he was right. "It's fine," she mumbled. "And I know you don't mean it anyway, so there's not really any point in saying you're sorry." Apologies were worthless when they were empty. And really, there was no point of apologising for something that was very much right about. Lucy wasn't one to be afraid of the truth, even if it sucked sometimes.

Bickslow knew enough about the human females to know that when a woman said they were fine, they were very much _not_ fine. And, well… She was his human, so it was easy to tell when she wasn't okay. For once though, Bickslow didn't really feel like toying with the human, so he kept his mouth shut right up until he was sure he couldn't do it any longer - because really, Bickslow didn't do well with silence.

So then, clearing his throat and ignoring the pointed glare Lucy sent in his direction ( _how dare he ruin the wonderful silence_ , most likely), Bickslow ignored his better judgement and took a careful step forward. " _Sooo_ … I know you only moved here a little while ago, and I guess moving is a big thing or something, but… I mean… I thought you would've, you know, gone out and like, _socialised_ or something by now," he said slowly.

Now, that wasn't to say Bickslow knew that much about the humans of that generation (not yet, at least), but from what he could tell so far, people those days were fond of going out with friends and doing all the stupid things that humans did. But Lucy, though? As far as Bickslow could tell, all Lucy did was work and ask him weird questions about vikings.

"I don't have time to have a social life," Lucy answered.

"Bullshit."

"I mean it! I… I get home late—"

"You finish at five o'clock every day."

"—and all the free time I do have, I put into fixing up the house…"

Bickslow had to give her that one. Still, Lucy was making it seem like she barely had time to _think_ , which, really, was a lie. She had all the time in the world. Sighing, and not wanting to upset her _too_ much, Bickslow was cautious as he said, "Honey, you and I both know you have absolutely no life. You work, and then you come home and do chores. Who the fuck _likes_ chores? Especially when they have a goddamn genie offering to do all the work!" He paused, shaking his head to himself. "That's beside the point," he mumbled. "My point is, you _could_ go out and have a social life. You're just choosing not to."

Right about then, Lucy was _really_ wishing that her genie had some kind of physical form, just so she could hit him or something. Now, she wasn't a violent or physical person by any means, but she thought he deserved to at least have a pillow thrown at his face. In any case, Lucy didn't appreciate being called out on her shit, especially by someone - _something_ \- she did actually consider a _friend_.

"If you're just going to be mean to me, then you can go back in your lamp," she muttered.

"Oh, come on," Bickslow whined. He wasn't being mean. Well, maybe a little, but if Lucy couldn't handle _that_ , well… They were going to have a bit of a problem. "Really? Okay, so fine, maybe that was a _little_ mean, but I'm right and you know it." Going around on his tiptoes and being nice to people wasn't in his nature. If it was one thing he had learned over the last nearly two millennia, it was that human nature wouldn't have progressed as far as it had everyone had just been _nice_ to each other.

Bickslow would know. He'd once had his master beheaded after convincing him to stage a rebellion against the king. He usually didn't remember much about his masters, but that annoying brat of a duke had certainly been memorable.

"I mean it. Go away." _Don't make me wish for it._

His eyes widened at the silent threat before narrowing slightly. "You wouldn't," he dared.

"Oh, I would."

"No."

There were some wishes that Bickslow had no choice but to obey. Going back to lamp was one of them; the universe would pluck him up and throw him right back in before he had a chance to plead otherwise. Bickslow was, however, _fairly_ certain Lucy didn't know that. He made it a habit not to tell his masters that the oh-so-wonderful and magical universe was actually against him, too. Still, Bickslow couldn't help but wonder if Lucy somehow knew. Surely it just had to be a coincidence. There was no way Lucy knew that. She was just a dumb little human who knew absolutely nothing about genies and wishes and anything even remotely related to magic.

 _Of course she doesn't know._ Bickslow laughed to himself in his head, just somewhat nervously. He shouldn't have even considered it for a second. It was pitiful.

"Well, I don't buy it," Bickslow huffed, crossing his arms. "You don't wish for things. And you know what? I don't think you'd wish for anything even if you had some lunatic pointing a gun at your head."

Lucy arched an eyebrow at the genie. "A gun? Really?"

"What? Are you saying you _wouldn't_ want an all-magical being coming to your rescue and saving your life?"

"What on earth has that got to do with anything?" Lucy screeched. Bickslow couldn't help but shudder slightly. He didn't like that sound. He never wanted to hear it again. In any case, Lucy knew better than to get caught up in… Well, in whatever it was Bickslow was trying to say. It hadn't taken her long to figure out that he could be a little… _obscure_ at times. She almost wondered if all jinn were that fucking weird. "God, just… Just go away already! I'm not talking about this with you."

Bickslow knew when he was defeated. Even if he didn't, it wasn't like he'd stick around to hear Lucy screech and whine at him some more. It really was a horrible sound. " _Fine_ ," he huffed, finally taking his leave and departing straight through the wall. He couldn't stop himself from sticking his head back through before he was gone though, just the tops of his shoulders peeking through the plaster and surrounded in a purple and blue haze, and added, "And this is exactly why you need to go out and get laid or something. Might help you blow off some steam."

He had already disappeared and retreated to his lamp by the time Lucy picked up a balled-up shirt and threw it in his direction. God. She never thought that one person could be so _infuriating_. It didn't help that he'd been spot on about everything (well, _almost_ everything - she didn't need to get laid, thank you very much).

Still, if Bickslow was just going to be like that for the rest of their miserable agreement, then Lucy couldn't help but worry about just what the fuck she'd gotten herself in to.

* * *

Lucy's night was quiet - _too_ quiet. She'd gotten far too used to the genie's mindless and mildly irritating comments that she couldn't help but miss them when they were gone. And that… That, Lucy didn't like. She was supposed to be mad at him, damn it. She wasn't supposed to _miss_ him - not that she'd ever admit that out loud. Oh no. Her genie already had an ego the size of the planet. She didn't need to make it worse.

But… Well, Lucy had come to really enjoy Bickslow's company. And she felt kind of bad for telling him to go away. In his own warped way, she was sure Bickslow had just been trying to be nice. Or, well, that was what she _liked_ to think. It was hard to tell what a genie's true intentions were.

In any case, and regardless of what the damn genie's intentions had been (who knew, maybe he really had been trying to push her buttons), Lucy knew Bickslow well enough to realise that she'd just have to swallow her pride and summon him if she actually wanted him around again. Well, that night, at least. She figured he'd come out on his own out of boredom at some point.

She put it off for as long as he could, making herself some dinner first and taking a _long_ bubble bath, and then reorganising the kitchen pantry, too. By the time she was ready to face her demon - er, genie - all that was playing on the T.V was the crappy late-night news shows. Lucy was usually in bed with a book by that time; she hated watching the news since it always made her disappointed in the world. She knew Bickslow watched it, though. Whether it was because he found it interesting, or if it was because the late-night reruns of his favourite shows happened to occur right after the news, Lucy just wasn't sure.

Lucy stared at the lamp for a while longer before she finally pulled herself off her lounge and stopped fiddling with the corner of the cushion. "…Bickslow? You can, uh… You can hear me, right?" She stood on her toes to carefully pry the lid off the top of the lamp, peering in as if she expected to see anything other than the dull bronze interior, perhaps a miniature genie glaring up at her like she was some ginormous beast. "Are you going to come out again?" she asked softly.

It wouldn't surprise Lucy in the slightest if Bickslow decided to sulk and ignore her. He seemed like the type to do that. So when she heard the dramatic sigh from behind her, Lucy found herself oddly relieved.

"What do you want now?" Bickslow asked, his foul mood far too obvious in his voice. "Call me out just to tell me to go away again?"

 _I deserved that._ "No, I… I wanted to… apologise."

"Excuse me?"

Lucy should've known that Bickslow would just make it difficult for her. She twisted her hands together and took a deep breath before quietly attempting her apology again. "I shouldn't have spoken to you the way I did earlier. It… It was rude, and it was uncalled for, and… And I'm sorry."

Bickslow wasn't sure what was happening. Was Lucy actually _apologising_ to him? _That_ had never happened before, not just from Lucy, but from anyone. In fact, Bickslow wasn't sure if anyone had _ever_ apologised to one of his kind, in the entire history of the universe - or, well, for as long as jinn had existed, at least. It just… wasn't supposed to happen. Masters weren't supposed to apologise to them. Masters shouldn't even _have_ anything _to_ apologise for.

That wasn't to say Bickslow was complaining about Lucy apologising to him, though. Hell no. That was fucking amazing. Granted, he wasn't _entirely_ sure why, but that was irrelevant. Lucy apologising to him felt too damn good for him to question it. Still strange, but good.

"Oh. Uh, um… Apology accepted, then."

"Great," Lucy said with a slight nod. She looked around awkwardly for a moment, somewhat waiting for her genie to follow up with some stupid remark, before deciding to ask for herself, "So, uh… Are we good now?"

"What? Oh, yeah, sure." Bickslow scoffed, waving his hand in the air dismissively. "Nothin' to worry about. Forget about it. Totally good." Everything was _A-OK_ as it always had been, because Bickslow definitely wasn't the kind of genie to get his feelings hurt by a measly little human. Of course not.

Lucy breathed a little sigh of relief. _Good. Great. Everything's fine._ Her genie didn't hate her, and all she wanted to do was curl up under her blanket and hide for the next week. Everything was perfect.

Turning, Lucy straightened up Bickslow's lamp before looking around the room once more. She was all too aware of Bickslow staring at her with a look of disbelief on his face (why, she wasn't sure), and it certainly wasn't making her any more comfortable. It was late enough that she knew she should probably just call it a night and go to bed, but she just didn't really want to do that just yet. So she sat herself down in the corner of her lounge and pulled the nearest cushion into her lap. Bickslow was still just standing there like a fool, of course.

"So, um… Are you going to, uh… go back into your lamp? Or—"

Bickslow was pulled from his daze the second his residence was mentioned, joining his master on the sofa with a slight grimace. "No, fuck no." Honestly, if he could go without ever seeing the inside of his lamp again, he'd be a very happy genie. Unfortunately that just wasn't possible. Besides, it was a good place to sulk.

Lucy couldn't help but give a slight nod, turning away just to hide the small smile on her lips. Not that she'd ever say it out loud, but she was glad Bickslow had decided to join her and stare blankly at the T.V with her. Perhaps she'd gotten a little too used to having the annoying genie around. If anything, Lucy had started looking forward to being able to go home each day, all because of Bickslow.

How she'd ended up with a genie being the closest thing she had to a friend those days, Lucy wasn't entirely sure.

Still, even having apologised for how she'd reacted to her genie's _observations_ , she didn't feel any better. He'd struck a little too close to home and it still hurt. There was nothing quite like having someone point out that you were miserably alone in the world.

"I haven't talked to any of my friends since I finished moving up here," she eventually admitted in a small voice, twisting the corner of the pillowcase between her fingertips.

Bickslow quickly turned his attention away from the program to look towards his master. "Huh? Oh, you actually wanna do this?"

Lucy merely ignored him, continuing to stare down at her lap and fiddle with the cushion. "I thought a few of them would at least _call_ or something, but I haven't heard from any of them in months…"

Lucy had never really considered herself a _popular_ person, even if others had disagreed. She'd had plenty of acquaintances from her time at university, but only ever a handful of close friends. That was the way she'd liked it. When she'd told them she was moving, they'd all gushed about how much they'd miss her, and promised to call or text her every day and visit her every weekend and on the holidays, too.

At first, Lucy had just told herself that none of it mattered. She hadn't really missed them then, but her first few weeks there had been so hectic that Lucy hadn't really had _time_ to miss anyone from home. Now though, her life had settled back down again, and it wasn't really like Lucy could keep saying that she didn't have time to do anything like miss her friends, because she did, especially now that Bickslow had gone and opened his fat trap.

Bickslow stared longingly at his lamp. For once, he'd give anything to be back in the dusty old thing. He could vaguely recall Lucy suggesting she didn't really have many friends, but Bickslow honestly hadn't cared enough to consider if it was the truth or not. He'd just assumed it was a joke. Apparently not.

In any case, for as long as Bickslow had lived, he still didn't know what to do in that situation. He'd never been a particularly affectionate or sympathetic being, not to humans and not to his own kind. Considering his entire purpose, Bickslow had never _quite_ been able to understand the humans as a whole, either; paired with his lack of sympathy, it was a miracle that he'd ever been allocated a lamp at all. He'd been quite the disappointment to his mentors and parents.

For the most part though, Bickslow had gotten lucky with his humans. Sure, he'd had his fair share of horrible ones over the many, _many_ years, but it had still mostly been a breeze. He'd granted wishes and that was it. It was exactly the way Bickslow had liked it. With Lucy, though… Lucy was different. And the longer Bickslow spent serving her, the more he began to see that as a _good_ thing, even if her lack of wishing did drive him up the fucking wall sometimes. Still though, Bickslow's humans had never really confided in him the way Lucy was right then, and the fact that she was just made him so uncomfortable that all he wanted to do was hide.

But… He couldn't do that. Not then.

Bickslow only watched his master in silence for a few moments, wondering just what it was a human - or even a normal, _better_ genie - would do in that situation. Maybe... a gentle pat on the shoulder or something. That seemed like a _humanly_ thing to do. He lifted his hand before he could even really think about it, letting it hover just above Lucy's shoulder for a moment before he finally paused, then pulled his hand back to himself.

Maybe it would've been fine, had he actually touched her, but Bickslow just hadn't wanted to take that chance. There was a reason they didn't allow humans to touch them, and that just meant they weren't to touch the humans, either.

Instead, Bickslow did the only thing he could think of: he conjured the ridiculous dessert that Lucy somehow found edible. "Ice-cream?"

Lucy smiled softly, sniffling as she reached for the decadent dessert that her genie held in front of her. "Thanks," she whispered. Ice-cream always made her feel better, and as horrible as she felt for getting it for free, she really needed it right then.

"They sound like shitty people," Bickslow said quietly. He knew enough about humanity to know that Lucy's friends weren't actually her friends. They were the last people Lucy needed to be worrying about.

"They're… They're not that bad. Maybe… Maybe they've just been busy, you know?" Maybe it was Lucy's own fault, too. It wasn't like she'd been making that much of an effort to stay in touch. She'd only texted them each a handful of times, tried leaving them voicemails once or twice…

Clearly, they were just all having a hard time catching each other. That's all it was, right?

Bickslow scoffed. "Yeah, sure," he muttered. He had to admit he felt sorry for his master, though. Sure, he found her incredibly frustrating sometimes, but he was sure she was much more tolerable to the other humans. Bickslow wasn't sure he could fault her for anything, other than being stubborn, but that wasn't horrible. "Anyway, why don't you just go and make new friends? Maybe get a boyfriend - or girlfriend, no judgement - while you're at it. I'm sure _some_ people wouldn't hate being around you."

Lucy shook her head. "Everyone here is like twice my age or already married."

"What, you're not into that?"

"No!"

Bickslow frowned as he watched her stir the ice-cream around in the glass bowl, watching as it all swirled together as it slowly melted; he'd never get over just how horrible that thing had tasted when Lucy had forced him to eat it with her. Bickslow had served in that house for a long time, though. He knew that town, albeit it not as well as any of his humans ever had, but he knew enough. And clearly, that crappy little town out in the middle of nowhere hadn't changed a bit in the last six decade. Bickslow still wasn't entirely sure why Lucy had moved out there to begin with. She didn't belong there.

"You know… Maybe, maybe this is just the way it's meant to be," Lucy eventually mumbled around the spoonful of melted ice-cream. "Maybe I'm just meant to die here, completely alone and having accomplished absolutely nothing in my life."

"Oh, come on. That's not true. The world doesn't hate you _that_ much."

"No? Then why the hell are my friends ignoring me?" she snapped. Bickslow couldn't help but wince. "What on earth did I do to make them hate me so much?"

That was something Bickslow would just never be able to answer. He didn't know if Lucy really had done something, or if it was just humans being their shitty selves (though he found the latter far more likely).

Still, a part of him hated that he'd caused the entire thing. Lucy wouldn't be upset if it hadn't been for him pestering her about going out for a change. Then again, how was he to have known that it would end up like that? He didn't pry unless he had a reason to, and as far as Bickslow had been able to tell, it wasn't like Lucy had ever made it obvious that she didn't really have any friends there.

In any case, Bickslow was there to make her life better, not make it worse and make her miserable. That didn't benefit either of them.

Perhaps friendships and all they entailed was the one thing that Bickslow didn't quite understand about the humans, though. Genies didn't get attached to things. It was against their nature. As such, Bickslow had never really felt how his master felt, as he'd never actually had his own friend, and he'd never _lost_ one, either. But he didn't need to understand that feeling to realise that it sucked, at least for Lucy.

It occurred to Bickslow though, as he sat awkwardly and silently beside her while desperately trying to think of something he could do, that he was probably all Lucy had at that point. She clearly didn't have any other close friends, and her family didn't seem to be around, either. She had her job, and she had that crappy little house, and she had… him.

Suddenly it made sense to him just why Lucy always insisted on having him keep her company. Because he was it. He was, probably, the closest thing she had to a friend in Mayflower. Bickslow couldn't help but feel slightly… touched. Mostly though, he just felt pity for his master. It shouldn't be that way.

For the time being though, Bickslow didn't know what else to do other than remind his master that he was, in fact, there. Clearing his throat, Bickslow began quietly, "For whatever it's worth, you still have me. I mean, I know I'm not a human, but… But, you know…"

Lucy scoffed. "You're just saying that because you're supposed to serve me and all," she said bitterly. "You hate me, I know."

"I don't."

"You mean that?"

"Of course."

Lucy didn't really believe it, but, well… It still made her feel a little better just hearing that her genie didn't completely hate her - at least not _all_ the time. "Well… Thank you," she said softly, quickly glancing up from the corner of the eyes. "And, just… Thank you for putting up with _this_ , too. I guess it isn't exactly part of your job description and all…"

Bickslow found himself grinning back at his master. "Hey, come on. It's fine. That's what friends are for," he replied, just a little too easily for his liking.


	8. Thunder

"Welcome back. I'd ask if you want anything, but we both know your answer."

Lucy smiled as she hung her bag on the hook and locked the door. Her genie was still sprawled on the lounge, exactly where she'd left him when she'd left for work that morning. "I'd kill for something to drink right now, actually," she said. Bickslow sat upright in an instant, eyes wide with excitement, but then she continued, "Just not from you."

Bickslow huffed, leaning back down and crossing his arms. "You just had to get my hopes up, didn't you?" he mumbled. Honestly, he should've seen it coming.

"Aw, I'm sorry," Lucy giggled. Admittedly, Lucy knew she could've been nicer about it, but it was too much fun to mess with him. Plus, she liked seeing a genie pout. "I'll make it up to you after I have a shower. Promise!"

"I don't believe you!" Bickslow called back, with Lucy already halfway towards her bathroom.

Bickslow supposed it could to worse, though. She could just be straight up saying no, or she could be making him stay in his lamp the whole time (well, she could try to make him). Bickslow could deal with Lucy messing with him. Of course, he'd still prefer for her to actually wish for something, but he was still certain it'd all work out in time, and that was something Bickslow had plenty of.

Fresh out of the shower and already in her pyjamas, Lucy ventured out into her kitchen to start getting some dinner ready. Bickslow appeared shortly after, sitting himself on the end of the bench as he usually did and tilting his head as he watched his master run the towel through her hair in front of the open fridge. Last Bickslow checked, refrigerators weren't designed to be left open, and food didn't magically appear unless _he_ had anything to do with it (although one of those days, Bickslow was going to do it anyway, probably just to have Lucy learn her lesson about standing there for so long).

"My, my… Look at you all dressed up. Where are we off to tonight, huh?" he teased. If it was one thing Bickslow had learnt about Lucy, it was that she valued comfort over anything else. Which was fine and all. It was just that he was certain she had to own something other than leggings and old t-shirts with paint and sweat stains on them.

"Oh, shush." She finally shut the fridge and reached for the take-out menu folder she kept in the drawer, rifling through them with pursed lips. "Do you think I should just order a pizza or something?" she mumbled.

"Well, do you want to spend money?"

"Not really."

"Then don't order anything."

Lucy set the pizza voucher down to look at the next menu, scanning the list of dishes for something that sounded appetising. "But I didn't have time to go to the grocery store after work today, so I couldn't pick up anything to cook with tonight."

Bickslow couldn't help but roll his eyes. "Then order something."

"But I don't want to spend money!"

And it was in that moment precisely that Bickslow realised why the human race hadn't evolved as much as it should've. Lucy was a prime example of how insufferably indecisive and stubborn they could be. Everything seemed to make sense now. "Honestly, I don't know what you expect me to say, girlie," the genie sighed. "Order food, don't order food. I don't actually care."

Lucy frowned at her genie as she put the menu down. "You don't have to be so mean about it…" she muttered. But, Lucy figured she probably deserved it anyway. She had enough sense to realise when she was being a pain in the ass.

Still, she had to decide at some point whether to order food or not. She could probably scrape together enough for a pasta, since she usually always made sure to keep staples like that in her pantry. But… Lucy cooked pasta a lot, mostly because it was cheap. There were only so many ways she could make spaghetti, especially while on a budget.

"I think I'm gonna order something," she finally said. At least then she could have the leftovers for breakfast, and maybe even lunch the next day.

"You do that."

"What do you think I should get, though? Maybe a curry…"

Bickslow groaned as he threw his hands up into the air in frustration. "I'm done. I'm done." _Fucking humans_. Just when he thinks he's getting somewhere, she goes and does that. He didn't care what she fucking ordered, because he wasn't the one eating it.

It was at times like those where Bickslow wondered if he'd actually be better off with a master who kept him in his lamp. At least he wouldn't have to put up with stupid questions.

* * *

Lucy stared down at the newspaper with a frown, her brow creased as she read over the words. Bickslow had been seeing that face a lot more over the last week, and it was beginning to drive him crazy. She wasn't any fun when she was moping, and that was all she'd been doing all week.

"Alright, seriously, what the fuck is up with you?" he demanded. "Someone die or something?"

"No…"

"Then what are you so miserable about this week?"

Lucy shook her head as she folded the newspaper back up and set it at the end of her bench. "Nothing. It's fine."

Bickslow knows enough about the human females to know that fine was a lie. "Well, that's bullshit."

"It's nothing that would interest you," Lucy clarified.

"Honey, you'd be surprised what interests me. So try me."

Lucy sighed as she quickly rinsed her cereal bowl under the tap before setting it down to wash later. Her hands gripped the edge of the counter when she turned back around, knuckles white and her face a mask of worry. Even Bickslow could feel how uncertain she was. He hadn't needed to see her.

"The town," Lucy murmured. She really didn't know why her genie would care, but she wasn't in the mood for arguing. "Well, the farmers, but I guess it is the town too anyway since they support most of the town…"

Surprisingly, that did pique Bickslow's interest. He'd lived there far longer than Lucy had, so he couldn't really help but feel a little bit attached to the quaint town, despite having only seen a small part of it for himself. "The town? What do you mean?" Bickslow asked.

"There's a drought. I… I don't know if you even know what a drought is, but—"

"I know what a drought is," Bickslow snapped. What did Lucy take him for? A fool?

She tried not to wince. "Right, of course you do," she said quietly. "Anyway, uh… There's this drought," she said again, "and everyone is kind of suffering because of it. None of the crops are doing that well so all the groceries are having to get fresh produce delivered instead. And… And the farmers whose crops are dying are moving onto livestock to try and stay afloat, but that isn't doing so well either because Rockwell kind of owns that market…" Lucy shook her head as she pushed off from the counter. "Not really like anyone can do anything about it anyway, but it's just… It's sad, you know? Watching all these people who have lived here their entire lives lose everything they've worked so hard to build just because of a couple bad winters."

Bickslow remained silent as Lucy walked away. He wasn't really sure what he was supposed to say, or if there was anything he _could_ say. He didn't like seeing his master that way, but he didn't know what to do about that, either. The best he could do is poke around in her head a little bit and send a few happier, more pleasant feelings her way. But Bickslow didn't want to do that. He'd never wanted to do that to anyone, no matter how miserable his masters had been.

Maybe… Maybe there was just nothing Bickslow could do for Lucy then. Even him, a being thousands of years old and with more power than Lucy could ever imagine, had his limits. Maybe that was just one of them.

* * *

Bickslow was unusually cautious around his master for the next few days. Lucy didn't seem to notice, being too wrapped up in her own thoughts, Bickslow supposed. If she did notice, she didn't say anything about it.

The routine remained unchanged, despite the quiet. It was a cycle of work, eating, and sleeping, the same as it had always been. In the evenings, Bickslow would merely ask her how her day was, foregoing the usual wish-asking or snarky comments. It wasn't the time for him to be his usual self. Lucy's answers were short and to the point, a hollowness in her voice that Bickslow couldn't help but notice each time she spoke. He hated it more than he thought he would.

Despite it all, Bickslow's curiosity only seemed to grow. Lucy was… unique. He'd already known that, of course. Humans were selfish creatures by nature, only ever concerned about their own wellbeing. It was how they'd survived as long as they had, and Bickslow couldn't really fault the humans for that. But Lucy wasn't really like that, at least from what Bickslow had already seen. Usually his humans didn't become so distraught over things they couldn't control, but Lucy did, and it was just a little intriguing.

When she got home that day, Bickslow knew she was worse before she even walked inside. The misery was dripping off her, so much that Bickslow felt it in his own soul.

She slammed the door behind her. Bickslow winced at the noise. Lucy wasn't one for slamming doors. He followed her cautiously, watching silently from a distance. He didn't want to step on her toes or annoy her right then. He wanted to wait until Lucy said something, but Bickslow didn't know if it would ever happen. Lucy hadn't taken to talking to him much that week.

"So, u-um… How was your day?" Bickslow asked hesitantly. His voice was shakier than he intended. He didn't like it.

"Horrible," Lucy muttered. She dropped her bag on the counter and kicked off her flats. Lucy wished it was a Friday so she could just drink until she fell asleep and not have to worry about going to work in the morning.

Although it wasn't like she'd have her job for long anyway. Lucy supposed the only reason she was still employed was because the owners were too old to actually work there the hours that she did.

"Do you, uh… wanna talk about it?"

"They're selling the bookstore."

"Oh…" Bickslow could see why that would be disappointing. He followed Lucy down to her bedroom and turned away when he realised she planned on getting changed. Lucy normally screamed at him to go away when she did that, but not today, it seemed. "What about your job?"

Lucy shrugged, throwing her shirt towards the hamper and only sighing when she watched it fall short and land on the floor. She didn't even bother going to pick it up. "Fine until someone actually buys the place, I suppose," she mumbled.

Bickslow nodded to himself. "Well, that's good, I guess." He glanced behind himself quickly to see if Lucy was still changing, head snapping back around when he saw that she was. He'd seen more (and worse) before, but he knew what Lucy hated, and there were to be no boundaries pushed that day. "Do you, uh… Do you know why they're selling?" he asked.

"Because they need money to keep their farm afloat, and it was either sell the bookstore that's barely making a profit anyway, or sell the farm that they've had in their family for three generations." Granted, the bookstore had been in their family for fifty years, too, but Lucy didn't really blame them for deciding to sell. Times were tough. Sacrifices had to be made.

It was just a shame she was in the middle of it.

"Is… Is there anything I can do?"

Lucy wants to say no, but she's tired and she's miserable and she doesn't have it in her to stop herself from spinning around and facing her genie, not even caring that she's still only half dressed. "You know what? Sure. You're always bugging me about wishing for something, so how about you make it fucking _rain_ for a change," Lucy snaps, her voice laced with a venom Bickslow isn't used to hearing. And then she looks back town, picking up the clothes that hadn't made it into the basket because she can't stand leaving them on the floor after all, and mumbles, "But I guess it doesn't matter after all since you wouldn't be able to do that anyway."

Bickslow knows better than to stick around, silently slinking away to his lamp.

* * *

He waited until his master is asleep before making his move.

Bickslow isn't sure his plan will even work, but that doesn't stop him from trying anyway. Had it been anyone else, he wouldn't have bothered. But Lucy is extraordinary, and Bickslow doesn't really mind trying to go above and beyond for her.

Her first proper wish - and it was one, he spent the better part of the evening thinking about it - and it isn't a selfish one at all. Her first proper wish is for the people around her, the people she waves to in the morning and buys her coffee and groceries from on the weekend.

Of all the things for Lucy to finally wish for, Bickslow never expected it to be that.

He likes it, though. He loves it, even. It make him see his master in a new light, and he can't help but appreciate the fact she's so incredibly different.

But, Lucy was right about Bickslow, too. He _can't_ make it rain. He would've summoned the mightiest storm he could've if he'd had that kind of power. But manipulating nature and the elements in that way was beyond his limits, far beyond those of the elder jinn, too.

But that didn't mean Bickslow didn't know where to find someone who _could_ manipulate the elements in that way. And he knew exactly where to find them.

* * *

The god is waiting for him when Bickslow arrives in his realm.

He's in his own form there. The mark across his nose darker, his clothes replaced with the simple loose-fitting pants, and the swirling lines down his arm and across the side of his chest from his bond with the human a flowing, pale gold instead, almost blending in with the colour of his skin.

Bickslow kneels. He can feel his power draining already. Just sitting there is putting more strain on him that he thought, and Bickslow can't help but wonder if he'll even have enough to stay for as long as he needs. _Gotta make this fast._

He looked up to the god just ahead, parting the clouds on each side of him as he makes his entrance. Bickslow doesn't like the gods - any of them, really - but he's there for a reason, so his own fear be damned.

Ukko smiled down at him as he came to stop atop the stones. His face and hands are wrinkled and his beard as white and smooth as the long robe he wears. Bickslow tried not to think about how the dude looks like that one wizard from that weird movie series Lucy had him watch a few weeks earlier.

"Bickslow," Ukko said, his voice loud but gentler than Bickslow expected. "Seventh son of Attis."

"U-Uh, yes," Bickslow croaked. He wasn't used to people knowing who he was. Then again, Ukko was an actual god. "Yes, that is… That's me."

"What brings you to my realm, little jinn?" Ukko asked. He didn't often get visitors, much less from Bickslow's kind.

"I… I have a favour to ask of you."

"Of course."

Bickslow cleared his throat. He wasn't used to asking for things, always being on the other side of things. But he was there for Lucy. He had to ask. Even if it got him nowhere, he had to try. "My, uh… My town… Well, my human's town," Bickslow began, "it isn't, uh… doing so well. They're in a drought. And, you know, it's… It's this really small town, kinda crappy, actually, and—"

"Your human worries," Ukko supplied softly.

Bickslow could only nod.

"Why are you here, Bickslow?"

 _Didn't I answer that?_ "Because… Because Lucy—"

"Because of your human, yes," Ukko said patiently. "But why are you here for her? Why does this human's concerns worry you enough to come see me?"

Bickslow hated that the god was drawing it out. At that rate, he'd get sent back to his lamp and he wouldn't have even had a chance to finish asking what he wanted.

"She's not like my other humans," Bickslow whispered, looking down as he sat back on his heels. The grass under him was soft, unlike the grass in Lucy's dry yard. "She's selfless. And kind. And… And she works hard. I mean, she refuses to let me help with anything she can do on her own…" Now that he thought about it, Bickslow didn't even find it that annoying any more. "She wished for this."

"For you to speak with me?"

Bickslow shook his head. "No." He wasn't even sure if Lucy knew gods existed. He couldn't remember telling her about them. "She wished for rain, and I can't give her that," Bickslow said softly. "So I guess this is _my_ wish now, that _you'll_ grant her that wish. She's a good person. Everyone in that town is. I don't want her to see everyone else she cares about there lose everything."

Ukko watched the genie in silence. It was such a rare thing for people to petition him those days. The time of the gods had long since passed. They'd been forgotten, chalked up to being the centre of myths and legends. He missed the times where people would come to him for help, offering him their prized possessions or firstborns. He had been _powerful_ then. He still was, of course, but it had been different then. Ukko felt like a shadow of his former self.

But what did the genie have to offer him? Nothing, surely. So what reason did Ukko have to help the human girl that the genie seemed to care so much for? He had no reason to help the ones who had forgotten him and prayed to their fake gods instead.

"Your time here is up, little jinn," Ukko said calmly.

Bickslow didn't get time to do anything before the world flashed a bright white around him and he was sent right back to his lamp.

* * *

Lucy woke to the shrill tone of her alarm. She squinted at the harsh light from her phone screen when she reached to turn it off, missing the button a few times for finally managing to switch it off.

She stared at the wall next to her bed, blinking slowly. Lucy wasn't sure if she should get out of bed and get ready for work that day. It wasn't like there was much point. The pay was shit and she was bound to get fired as soon as the store was sold anyway. Lucy wouldn't even be surprised if the place got turned into a nail salon or some crap. It wasn't like bookstores were all that popular anymore, now that everything was digital.

 _Maybe I should just sell—_

Lucy jumped out of her skin at the loud crack of what sounded suspiciously like thunder overhead, yelping a little as she sat upright. She thought maybe the small garden shed in her yard had collapsed, or perhaps a car had backfired or something out the front of her house. But then she finally noticed the heavy downpour outside. She spun around in the tangle of sheets and duvet and her eyes widened in shock as she looked to her window and saw the droplets cascading down the glass, and the dark storm clouds just beyond.

She bolted out of bed, running through her house and straight out the front door. Lucy thought she was dreaming, even as she stood in the rain and became quickly drenched. Her yard was flooded, the cobble path a muddy mess. Thunder rolled overhead and the skies lit up briefly.

Inside his lamp, Bickslow smiled contentedly to himself before going back to sleep.

* * *

 _Ukko is in fact a real god. He's supposed to be the Finnish god of the sky, weather, harvest, and thunder. It seemed fitting._


	9. Clingy

_I was going to hold onto this for a lot longer than I already did, but I'm procrastinating and uni is killing me so it'll be a lot longer before I get anything else done. I did type this out before in a little more depth, but ffnet decided to eat it so now I can't be bothered doing it all again._

 _Anyway, sorry for lack of updates! Have some genie au._

* * *

Spring came to an end and summer was just around the corner. Following the rain-ageddon, things started looking up for the small town of Mayflower, and Lucy go to see the town flourish and thrive in a way she'd never yet seen.

It had rained nearly every day for three whole weeks, enough to fill up all the town dams and bring life back into everyone and everything. There'd been a few casualties in the storms, namely a few crops, but they'd been nothing to worry about in the end. The rain had saved lives, saved families, and even saved dreams.

Things returned to the way they were in the quiet town as quickly as they ever would. The bookstore hadn't needed to be put up for sale with the draught ending, which meant Lucy still had a steady job to keep a roof above her head - something Lucy had come to respect a whole lot more following the disaster that had almost struck.

It was a Friday, Bickslow's favourite day of the week. In the lounge room, Bickslow was glued to the television, watching the cartoons playing on the screen with mild fascination and Lucy finished getting ready for work, and her evening, in the next room. Lucy wasn't entirely sure when her genie had discovered that there were other shows other than reality television, but she couldn't help but feel like a mother to a seven-year-old whenever she walked into her lounge room to see the man-shaped genie sitting three feet away from the screen.

"Alright, I'm off. Running a bit late," Lucy said, grabbing her water and lunch from the kitchen before picking up her keys and purse. Bickslow didn't acknowledge her, not that it was entirely unsurprising, so she made a point to at least pop her head around the corner to see if Bickslow even noticed she was speaking. "Don't watch T.V all day, alright? And don't watch last night's episode of Candy without me, either!"

Bickslow rolled his eyes, waving his hand in her direction. "Yeah, yeah. I'll wait. Don't worry," he muttered. He knew better than to watch shows without his master, especially ones she actually liked. She'd gotten all huffy when he'd binge watched the next season of a show they'd started together.

Hearing the front door close, followed by Lucy's car pulling out of the driveway a few moments later, Bickslow finally looked up from the T.V, quickly floating himself over to the window to peek out through the curtains and make sure his master was gone. He hadn't been that glued to the screen, at least not as much as Lucy thought. He wasn't a pitiful human male only capable of focusing on one thing. No, he was of the higher form; he could focus on two things, sometimes even three.

Bickslow usually hated when Lucy went off to work, mostly because he was left to his own devices and there wasn't all that much in the human world he could occupy himself with, other than the T.V. (but even that got a little boring). But for a little while, during the first week or so of rain, Bickslow had loved the solitude. It was the only time he'd been able to rest and regain his energy, because petitioning Ukko had used up far more than he'd intended.

He'd never told his master that he'd had anything to do with the storms, mostly because he wasn't sure if he had at all. There was no reason for a god to listen to him, especially one forgotten and cast aside by his followers. For all Bickslow knew, the rain had been coming anyway; Ukko could've ignored him and carried on with whatever it was that gods did in their spare time. But Bickslow hadn't wanted to tell Lucy anything either. He'd been fine not taking credit for it. It hadn't felt right when his master's first proper wish had been one out of completely selflessness.

It had been nearly a month since then though, and Bickslow was quite happily back to his usual self. He still napped most of the day, purely out of boredom, but he'd also started using his days a little more productively, too. Lucy didn't give him anything specific to do, which was fine and he could, unfortunately, respect that (at least most of the time). But there were still a few little things around the place Bickslow could keep himself occupied with, without Lucy throwing a fit at him. Namely, it was organising. Bickslow had found joy in organising everything and just squaring up everything in Lucy's tiny home. So much so that he did it every single day Lucy was gone.

Aside from making things look pretty, it also filled in the time, both of which were pleasing to a being such as himself.

He had a routine for organising Lucy's house. He started with the lounge room, arranging the pillows neatly and making sure all the little trinkets she had were perfectly spaced apart. He moved onto the books next, arranging them all alphabetically first, and then by colour, and then alphabetically once again. He usually moved onto the kitchen next, aligning all of her dinnerware in neat rows and perfect stacks, then arranging all of her food in the cupboards and fridge and making sure everything was all grouped up. Lucy had unsurprisingly noticed his work in the kitchen, simply asking if he'd organised everything. She hadn't said anything else about it, so Bickslow had figured it was safe to keep doing it. Although really, he wouldn't have stopped anyway.

Once he was finished organising, Bickslow's day was painfully boring. He napped, he watched the T.V, and he stared at the clock when he had nothing else to do. The latter was more entertaining than it seemed.

In the evening, Bickslow would merely sit and wait for Lucy's eventual return. Her predictability was something he'd gotten far too used to, but he did kinda like it.

But that day, Bickslow sat a waited far longer than he should've, and after establishing the fact that Lucy lacked both a social life and friends to share a social life with, Bickslow can't quite help but begin to freak the fuck out. It was so unlike her to be so late that she even missed her favourite show at half past seven.

Every five minutes, Bickslow would peek out through the curtains just to see if there was anything going on outside. He wasn't surprised that he couldn't see anything, but it was something to feel in the time. He knew he'd hear Lucy's car anyway. Bickslow just wasn't fond of waiting for it, because not knowing where his master was just wasn't acceptable.

Eventually, far past his master's usual bedtime, Bickslow heard Lucy's piece of crap car pull into the driveway. He made himself scarce until the door finally opened, and Lucy immediately rolled her eyes when the coloured mist swarmed almost protectively around her for a moment. She felt her genie take form before he spoke, something Lucy had been getting quite good at noticing over the weeks.

"And where were you, hm?" Bickslow demanded.

Lucy was almost positive she could feel the genie hitting the back of her heels, he was following that closely behind her. "If you must know, I was on a date," she muttered.

Bickslow fell behind for a moment, Lucy's news just a little difficult to wrap his brain around. He blinked in surprise. "Um, excuse me?" That was just absurd. Lucy had to be fucking with him. "Did you just say a date?"

"Yes, that is exactly what I said."

Bickslow couldn't believe his ears. He was positive he'd missed something, because nothing was making sense. Lucy? On a date? That was just… It was completely absurd.

He caught back up to her in the kitchen, watching as she kicked off her shoes and went straight for the fridge. Admittedly, Bickslow had gotten so used to seeing his master in her usual attire that the skirt and colourful blouse looked somewhat nice. He hadn't paid all too much attention that morning, but he supposed if he had, then he might've realised earlier that Lucy had made plans for the evening.

But was Bickslow going to compliment his master's attire? Oh no. Definitely not.

"Well, why wasn't I aware of your plans?" he asked, pouting just a little. He didn't like not being included.

"Because I didn't think you needed to know," Lucy answered, just slightly confused as she finally spied something edible within her fridge. "Also didn't think you'd care, to be honest," she mumbled.

Bickslow huffed. Of course he cared. The fact Lucy thought he wouldn't was just idiotic. "You are my human, therefore I need to know such things so I don't—"

"Did you just call me your human?"

"I—yes, why? That's what you are." Bickslow wasn't sure why Lucy found it so amusing, but the smirk on her lips was strangely terrifying. He felt an odd warmth creep up on his face, one he intended to get rid of as soon as possible. "You are human, and you are my master. That is all I meant."

"Uh-huh, sure," Lucy murmured.

Bickslow didn't like that, either. He had half a mind to just go back to his lamp, but he had other matters to attend to first. He perched himself on the counter, next to where Lucy was compiling the ingredients for her sandwich. Bickslow supposed there wasn't much point in dwelling on the fact Lucy hadn't told him about her date since there wasn't anything he could do about that now. He wasn't capable of controlling time - at least not to that extent.

"Well, when are you going to introduce us then?" Bickslow asked.

Lucy couldn't help but laugh at that. "Why on earth would I do that?" she chuckled. That had to be one of his jokes. Besides, even if Lucy did want to introduce her genie to anyone, she wasn't even sure how it would be possible, based on the fact that she was the only one who could see him.

Admittedly, Bickslow hadn't thought that far ahead. He looked away embarrassedly, waving his hand as he tried to come up with some kind of answer. "W-Well, like I said, you're my human, so I think I should at least know who you're sleeping with just in case something happens," he spluttered, ignoring the raised eyebrow his master was giving him. "And, it doesn't exactly seem like your father is around anyway, so it's only fitting that I get to judge your potential friends in his place."

"Hate to break it to you, but the only person my father judges is me," Lucy scoffed.

Bickslow frowned. He was sure that would be a perfect opportunity for him to prove that he was actually an empathetic being, but really, he just wasn't. That didn't stop him from wishing he knew what he was supposed to say to that. "I don't want you getting hurt by some pathetic excuse for a human," he admitted quietly instead. "Strangely enough, I would prefer it if our contract didn't end with your untimely demise, all because some asshat decided to make a lampshade out of you."

Lucy rolled her eyes, shaking her head slightly. Of course her stupid genie had been watching more horror movies. She wasn't entirely sure why he found them so fascinating. Still, it was probably the nicest thing he'd ever said to her. Smiling softly, she said, "If it makes you feel any better, I won't be seeing him again anyway." He'd been awful and Lucy hadn't been able to wait to leave.

She hadn't even wanted to go in the first place, if she honest, but he was her boss's grandson (or nephew - Lucy couldn't actually remember) and she hadn't been able to say no after all the family had been through with the draught and almost having to lose the store. Lucy just hadn't seen the harm in going on one little date.

It did. It made Bickslow feel tremendously better. The last thing he wanted to be worrying about was his master being murdered by some lunatic. She was his human, no one else's. Bickslow never had been good with sharing.

* * *

Another week passes, and once more, Bickslow is swarming his master as soon as he hears the jingle of keys and feels her presence. Lucy had started treating him as an actual pet a few days earlier, much to his disgust, asking 'who's been a good boy?' in that annoying voice and going to pat his head - or, well, the air. If Bickslow hadn't just been too glad to see her then he might've silenced her tongue again and had her learn her lesson.

Still, Lucy coming home was truly the highlight of his days by that point. He didn't blame Lucy for working, and they'd been together long enough that he'd started to accept her oddities and incessant need to actually do things, but none of that changed the fact that he was at home, by himself, for ten hours a day, with nothing but reality television, cartoons, and horror movies to keep him occupied. If he was human, Bickslow knew he'd be well and truly fucked in the head. But Bickslow had spent hundreds and hundreds of years standing by a master's side, so when Lucy left every morning to go and do her thing, Bickslow couldn't help but feel a little lonely.

Lucy got home right on time and Bickslow greeted her as usual."Did you enjoy your day? Anything exciting? Any more dates planned you care to let me know about?"

Lucy sighed, making a beeline for her living room where the T.V. was still on from whatever her genie had been keeping himself occupied with. "I did, nothing unless watching two ants fight over a piece of bread counts as exciting, and no."

Bickslow wasn't going to question the ant thing, but the last part was reassuring. "Well, any plans for tonight then?" he asked, although he knew better than to expect an answer other than no. It was a Friday, and Lucy never went out on Friday.

"Nope! I'm gonna have a shower, order a pizza because I've been craving one all day, and then finish the rest of that season."

That was something Bickslow could get on board with. Pizza was likely the one human food he didn't completely hate, too, and garlic bread wasn't bad either. Still, Bickslow wasn't going to bring up the fact that he'd already finished the season Lucy planned on watching.

Bickslow waited until Lucy sat herself down in the middle of her couch with the box of pizza in front of her before joining her again. He still didn't quite get the shower equals privacy thing, but Bickslow had already figured it was just easier to go back to his lamp and wait. Lucy was already stuffing her face with a slice of pizza and fiddling with the remote when Bickslow announced, "So, suggestion."

"Yes?" Lucy mumbled.

"Take me with you when you go places."

Lucy choked. Bickslow leant back and gave her a concerned look as she coughed and spluttered and tried to regain her breath again. "What?" Lucy shrieked. "What do you even—how?" Aside from the fact that Lucy wasn't even sure why Bickslow would ask such a thing, she didn't know how it would even be possible. Last she checked, he was bound to his lamp.

Bickslow shrugged. "Just take my lamp with you."

"Take it with me?" She stared and pointed at the bronze lamp above her fireplace. "What, so you just want me to chuck it in my purse and carry it around with me all the time?"

"I didn't say all the time, moron. But yes, that would be ideal."

It wasn't as if Lucy hated the lamp - honestly it was the kind of thing she expected to find in a thrift store for a couple of bucks. It was just that Lucy really didn't want to have to lug that thing around everywhere. It wouldn't exactly be all that convenient. She'd have to buy a new bag just to fit it in.

She shook her head, picking back up the slice of pizza she'd dropped during her coughing fit. "I'm not putting your lamp in my purse. It's too big anyway," she mumbled.

Bickslow raised an eyebrow at her. "Really? You're complaining about the size?"

"You are despicable."

The genie shrugged. The thing about humans was that they tended to mirror traits of those closest to them, but even a genie thousands of years old like him hadn't been able to avoid picking up a few habits and mannerisms from his human counterparts. "Well, I can't change my lamp, so you'll have to live with it," Bickslow huffed, crossing his arms. "But I still want to come with you when you leave. At least sometimes."

Much to Lucy's surprise, the most interesting thing in the room was no longer the fact that all the episodes of the her show were already marked as watched. Instead, it was just Bickslow. There'd been something off about him for the last few weeks as it was and Lucy figured it was about time she ask about it. "Are you okay?" she asked worriedly.

"Yes, of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

"You've just been really weirdly lately, is all," Lucy mumbled. "I mean, ever since I went on that date, I guess. You've just been really… I don't know, clingy?"

"Clingy? I am not being clingy, thank you very much," Bickslow gasped, folding his arms again. How dare Lucy accuse of him of being such a thing, something so human and so pitiful.

"There's no need to get all defensive about it."

"I'm not being defensive. You're being defensive."

Lucy's eyebrows shot up as she leant back. "Seriously? That's how you want to do this?" she deadpanned. As if he wasn't being weird enough already. Lucy wasn't sure if he was doing it on purpose or if he just genuinely didn't think anything was different. She was still trying to wrap her head around genie etiquette as it was, but Lucy still had a feeling that all went out the window when it came to her own genie. Bickslow only shrugged at her. "I'm just saying, first you got all weird about my date, and now you don't even want me leaving my house without you. It's just… It's a little strange, okay? And I'm worried about you."

Now Bickslow felt bad. He wasn't supposed to make his human worry. That was the last thing he was supposed to do. And in hindsight, Bickslow realised he could've been a little less obvious about thing, but that had never exactly been a strong point of his. Still, Bickslow had enough sense to realise that if he had any chance of getting Lucy to agree to anything he proposed, then he probably had to start telling the truth - something else that also wasn't his strong point.

When her genie said nothing and just continued staring at the opposite side of the room with a pout, Lucy just shrugged and set her focus back on her food and her T.V. "Alright, fine. You don't have to tell me what's up. That's okay." Lucy just thought it would be nice if Bickslow told her things, mainly because she figured she was going to be stuck with him for the rest of her time on that planet, so it just made sense to her to reach a point where they did just tell each other everything. Besides, it wasn't like Lucy had anyone else's problems to listen to.

After a moment, Bickslow sighed loudly and uncrossed his arms. Lucy only glanced at him from the corner of her eyes. "I don't like being left alone," Bickslow begrudgingly admitted. It was probably the most pitiful thing he'd ever admitted out loud, at least to a human. "Everyone else was always around all the time and gave me things to do. But you just work all the time, and then all I get to do is sit around here and wait."

Considering her genie's general lack of affection towards her, or any other human on the planet, Lucy had just never pegged Bickslow as being one to get lonely. But, Lucy supposed it wasn't really all that surprised. He'd told her before his last masters had all quit their jobs if they'd even had them, but that had been right back at the beginning of their contract when he'd still been bugging her about actually wishing for things. But Bickslow didn't pester her about any of that any more, or at least not nearly as much as he used to. If anything, Lucy wasn't sure what Bickslow did those days, other than just sit and wait patiently for her to return each day.

"I, uh… I didn't know it bothered you," Lucy mumbled, setting the slice back down in the box. "I still can't just quit my job. I have bills to pay."

"I know you do, stupid. And I'm not telling you to, either, because you're stubborn and you like to be independent and I know you're not going to quit your stupid job. I don't care about that."

"You just don't want to be left alone so much," Lucy repeated.

Bickslow shrugged. It was a simple enough concept. He was, by nature, a social being. Granted, he didn't particularly care for most humans which was a failure on his part, but Bickslow still thought there were worse things to be than lonely.

And while Lucy now understood why Bickslow had been the way he had been for the last few weeks, she still wasn't sure if taking him anywhere was a good idea. Lucy still didn't know the extent of her genie's abilities (and she wasn't sure she wanted to know), but letting one loose on the world didn't seem like the best thing.

Besides, there was still a part of her that thought it was a stupid idea anyway, actually taking his lamp places. He was supposed to be serving her, so really, why should Lucy bother listening to him? Of course, that would be the nice thing to do, and it would probably make the rest of her time on that planet a little more bearable if her genie didn't despise her, but still. It wasn't her fault her genie couldn't handle being on his own for a few hours every day. Honestly, Lucy thought she'd be better off with a dog. At least they just slept when there was nothing else to do.

Judging by the scowl on her genie's face right then though, Lucy figured she hadn't been the only one inside her head at that precise moment.

Lucy shook her head, sighing as she finally managed to get another bite in of her dinner. "Anyway, no, I'm not taking you anywhere," she mumbled, mouth full. "You'll just have to find something to do during the day. Sleep or something."

"My kind do not need to sleep as much as you tiny humans," Bickslow huffed, crossing his arms again. He was bored of sleep, and he slept when Lucy slept anyway just because he was bored.

"Well, I don't know then, but I'm still not taking you anywhere."

Bickslow knew when he had lost. But while he might've lost the battle, he could still win the war. Bickslow was sure he could convince Lucy at some point. He just had to wait for the right moment.

Unfortunately for Lucy though, Bickslow wasn't nice enough to leave her alone. She was being stubborn, so he was just going to be annoying, and being annoying was something Bickslow considered himself to be quite good at.

"So, when are you going to actually start writing? Or whatever shit you said you moved here to do," Bickslow asked. The glare his master gave him was highly worth it in his book. He couldn't help but respond with a small shrug and smug smirk.

Lucy guiltily looked over to her desk across the room. She knew Bickslow was just trying to get back at her or something since she'd told him no, but… He still kind of had a point. That was why she'd moved out into the middle of nowhere.

"I've… I've been busy," Lucy said. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd written anything, or even had the urge to. Moving had just taken so much out of her that sitting down and writing had been the last thing she'd wanted to at the end of the day.

"Bullshit."

"It is not!"

"Honey, you've come home and made me watch T.V. with you every night for the last three months."

Lucy scowled at him before huffing and looking back away. Her genie always pointing things out was beginning to be a little annoying. "W-Well… Well I just haven't had the inspiration, okay?" she admitted quickly. "I don't know what to write anymore."

"Oh." Bickslow supposed it made a little sense. Still, Lucy wasn't the first budding author he'd served, so he was still just a little confused by her statement. "Why don't you just, I don't know… Make it up as you go? Isn't that what you writers do anyway?"

"No! Well, maybe. I can't do that though. I need… I need to have an idea in my head before I start. Like, I need to have something to go off of so I can brainstorm and plot and…" The genie raised his eyebrows as Lucy began making vague motions with her hands as she tried to explain herself. Sighing, she dropped her hands to her lap and pulled the pillow to her chest. "I just don't know what to write," she whispered again.

Now Bickslow just felt bad. He'd meant to be annoying, not mean. Inspiration wasn't something he could give his master. Not really, at least.

But Bickslow wasn't really sure what he was supposed to do then, now that he'd upset her. Did he apologise? Or did he try and come up with something comforting to say? Neither were things he'd ever particularly done well. So he did he only thing he was good at, which was be himself.

"Anyway, hurry up and start the episode already. I'm bored."

Lucy sighed, rubbing her nose and reaching for the remote on the table. "Right, yeah, sorry," she mumbled.

In hindsight, Bickslow supposed he should've just stayed quiet.


End file.
